Night Must Fall
by NorthernStar
Summary: While on their way to a festival, the crew have a bizarre encounter that could cost Harper his life, and reveal Trance's secrets.
1. One - Waterfalls

Disclaimer: Andromeda and character's belong to Tribune. I am just borrowing them. All other character's and the story itself is copyright me.

Rating: PG

Summary: It's mainly about Trance :o)

Notes: This story came to me as I listened to Travis's "Driftwood" on their (truly excellent) album, "The Man Who…"

**Night Must Fall**

By NorthernStar

****

"Few people make choices in their lives, rather the choices make their lives…" High Guard Proverb.

Prologue: Pain Belongs to the Divine…

Dylan held the photograph in his hands, his thumb stroking absently at the gilt frame. Sara's beautiful face smiled out at him, bright and alive, as real as the day he took it. He felt a stab of sadness at the memory. The day they had hiked up the foot of K2, her birthday…They were heading for the base camp and had ended up hopelessly lost. She'd been so mad at him for leaving the Global Positioning handset at home. It was a cliché, but she really did look beautiful when she was angry. The fire in her eyes; the slight flush across her cheeks…

_"We're going to die!"_ She'd snapped._ "In years to come, someone will find our bleached carcasses laying here,"_ she pointed at her feet, _"and you know what they're going to think? They are going to say to themselves… 'What a couple of idiots!'"_ She threw her hands up,_ "and they'll be right!"_

And he'd laughed at her. She'd glared even more at him then and that only made his chuckles worse. And then he'd seen it, the tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth and then the spark of laughter that crept into her eyes.

That little twitchy smile seemed to summon his lips to it and he'd kissed her. She let him push her backwards gently, supporting her with his arms until they were lying on the mountainside amid the spring flowers. After many moments, Dylan had broken away from her and smiled into her face. He brushed the hair back from her forehead. "I think it's time I gave you your birthday present."

"Oh."

"I think you'll like it." He'd murmured and covered her mouth with his, their bodies entwined so closely it was as if nothing could ever separate them.

But time separated them now

And it would forever…

Dylan sighed, pulling himself from the memory. She was gone and nothing could change that. They'd tried…and failed.

Dylan put the photo down. It was time to move on, but there was one thing he had to say first.

"Happy Birthday, Sara…"

One -Waterfalls

Beka grimaced as the tension in her shoulders turned into an icy pain. Her arms were rigid; hands gripping the controls as she steadied the ship manually through its journey amid the slipstream. They'd been in there for over half an hour, jumping across light-years in bare moments. The trip was taking its toll on the engines…. And on Beka's posture. The Andromeda was headed for the Darva celebrations of Tallen Three, where the crew were due to be paraded like decorations for the royalty there. Dylan hoped the invitation to their most holy of festivals was the start of negotiations into joining the Commonwealth again. Beka saw it differently. They would be little more than a political statement to the people – _"See, we believe in democracy…"_

And none of the injustices on the planet would change.

"I am detecting an energy source in the Stream," Rommie said from the viewer.

"What is it?"

"Unknown, however it is now caught in our wake and our momentum is carrying it along with us."

"Is it hostile?"

"I do not believe so, but I recommend exiting slipstream."

Beka pulled back on the controls and the whole ship seemed to shift to the left, the sensation churning her stomach. Then it stopped as the ship halted in normal space.

"The energy source is now located 3.67 metres below my aft exhaust outlets."

"What's it doing?"

Rommie looked inward. "Beka, I'm detecting a lifeform on board!"

"Get Dylan up here."

"I have already informed him, he's on his way."

* * *

A few minutes later, Dylan strode onto the bridge. Beka frowned when she saw him. She knew him fairly well by now and he seemed to be…distracted. "Rommie, close up of the object." He said. The computer's face disappeared to be replaced by a small missile shape. "That looks like some kind of lifepod." 

"What would a lifepod be doing in the slipstream?" Beka asked.

"Dylan, I believe there's something you should see." Rommie said, blinking into existence beside him. The viewer closed in on the pod and small unintelligible words appeared. And a symbol.

"Isn't that the insignia of the Systems Commonwealth?" Said Beka.

"Yes," Dylan frowned, "but it's been altered somehow."

"Altered?"

"Dylan, the life signs are failing. Whoever's in there is dying."

"Rommie, bring the pod on board." He and Beka began towards the door. "Tyr," he said into the comm, "meet us at airlock twelve."

* * *

The life pod looked battered. Carbon scoring coated the surface, obscuring the writing and the single hatch was so corroded Dylan wondered if it was possible to open it at all. He knelt down and gripped the door release. He pulled hard but nothing happened. 

"Dylan, I'm sensing no respiratory effort from the inhabitant!"

"Let me!" Try pushed Hunt aside. The Nietzschean took hold of the hatch and grit his teeth, straining with every last ounce of his genetically superior strength.

"I've lost his heartbeat!" Rommie said.

"Trance!" Dylan called into the comm; "get the med deck ready!"

Crack!

The pod's hatch came off and a body tumbled out as Tyr threw the door away. Dylan knelt beside the man lying face down on the deck. "He's human."

And he turned him over.

They gasped in surprise.

It was Harper.

And in the midst of their shock, Rommie's voice said quietly, "Dylan, he's dead."


	2. Two - Breaking into Pieces...

Two - Breaking into Pieces…

Dylan felt for the man's pulse anyway. But he felt nothing. His High Guard training kicked in and he lent over Har…over the man. _It can't be Harper! It just looks like him._ And he delivered a blow to his chest, checked for responses and when he found none, began a cardiac massage. After ten compressions, he tipped the man's head back and breathed 5 short breaths into his mouth.

Tyr and Rommie watched Hunt as he fought to resuscitate the man. Rommie's sensors scanning throughout for any responses.

Time ticked by.

"Dylan," Rommie said eventually, "I'm reading no output. It's not working, he's dead."

Hunt looked up at her for a moment, a mix of anger and frustration in his eyes. Then his experience took over and he sat back on the deck. He knew that he could do nothing for this man and that he had to give up, but hated himself for it anyway.

Tyr knelt beside the body and looked it over without emotion; "it's Harper." He said, "he looks older though, maybe his brother?"

Dylan stood up and addressed his first officer. "Beka, did Harper ever mention a brother?"

"No but that doesn't mean he hasn't got one. Harper doesn't talk much about his family." She frowned, "they look enough alike to be twins." She was silent a moment and then she nailed Hunt with her eyes, "if that's Harper's brother, I'll tell him."

Dylan knew what she meant and he nodded. He preferred to be the one to tell relatives these things, it was his duty as captain. But Beka was closer to the young man than he was; he'd take it better from her.

"Agreed." He looked at the corpse; "we'll take it – him, down to medical. See if a scan can give us some answers."

"Dylan," Rommie asked, "what about Harper? If this _isn't_ his brother…"

Dylan frowned, "where is he?"

"In his quarters. By the movement of his eyelids, I believe he has just entered REM sleep."

"Good. We'll deal with that problem when it comes up. In the meantime," he watched Tyr sling the body over his shoulder, "Beka, take the helm and resume course for Tellan."

Trance had readied the resus unit but the moment she saw Tyr carrying the corpse she knew it wouldn't be needed.

"Trance," Dylan began as Tyr lay the dead man on the med bed, "I want you to run a DNA scan on-"

"Harper!" She gasped.

"It looks like Harper, but he's down in his quarters."

"Are you sure?" Trance asked worriedly, "I mean has anyone looked? It looks so much like him."

And it did. But once the initial shock had worn off, Dylan could now see small differences. His blonde hair was a little longer and his face, quickly paling with death, was older, more matured. And most telling of all, an ornate tattoo circled his cerebral port and trailed down his neck and disappeared into his clothes.

But Dylan had to admit something nasty was coiling in his stomach now that Trance had asked him that. "No, I'm not sure. He could be his brother. That's why I want a DNA test done as soon as possible."

Trance nodded and went to the trolley and picked up a scanner. She returned and took the body's hand and pressed it to the panel. Her tail hung low, mirroring her distress.

The scanner beeped and Trance checked the display. Her eyes widened and Dylan could have sworn he saw the alien's purple skin pale just a fraction. She looked up. "His handprints match Harper's."

"Any third rate assassin can alter hand and finger prints." Tyr said, "it proves nothing."

Trance looked at Dylan, and picked up another scanner. She moved around the corpse to his mouth to take a swab. She didn't want to remove blood.

She put her hand up to take a sample and she froze. Her eyes wide with shook, fixed on the man's neck.

The tattoo around his port…

Her finger's brushed the design, trailing it all the way until it disappeared under his collar, oblivious to the stares of Dylan and Tyr. "Trance?" Dylan asked.

She jumped.

"I…I er…just thought it looked pretty."

"Get on with it, girl!" Snapped Tyr.

She quickly took the sample and placed it in the slot on the scanner. "It'll take a few minutes to read all the chromosome sequences and match them to the ones in the database."

Three and a half minutes later, the scanner chirped and Trance held it out to Dylan.

The captain read the screen, "it matches." He said, "it's Harper."

In his quiet shock, he failed to notice that Trance's surprise was not aimed at him, but at the ornate tattoo.

* * *

The ship shifted back into normal space at Beka's command. They had reached the Tellan sector. She looked up at the face of Rommie on the screen.

"ETA for Tellan Three?"

"23 minutes."

Beka drummed her fingers on the slipstream-piloting chair. "Damn!" She swore, "I wish I knew what was going on down there."

* * *

Rommie's face blinked away and was replaced by the view from the medical cameras.

Dylan stared down at…. at Harper. It was just beginning to sink in. But it couldn't be…he was alive. And he was down in his quarters sleeping.

"Dylan," Rommie said, "I have been scanning the data from the DNA scan and I am detecting some chromosomal differences."

"This isn't Harper?"

"Some kind of clone, maybe?" Tyr suggested.

"No, it's Harper." She replied, "I believe it is the result of damage. Possibly caused by radiation. And there's something else."

Dylan looked up.

"His cells are showing a chronological age of approximately 27 years. Dylan, unless Harper lied about his age, he's only 23."

"That's impossible for an identical twin."

"Which leaves us with only one conclusion." Rommie said. "He IS Harper."

"But a future version." Dylan finished it for her.

"That is the most likely scenario based on the information available."

"But how did he get here?" Dylan looked Harper over, "Tyr, I want you to search the pod for anything that could give us and idea what happened. Trance, run every test you can think of on…the body. We need answers. I'll be on the bridge."

* * *

"Establishing geo-synchronous orbit of Tellan Three." Rommie reported, "I am receiving a transmission from the capital."

"On screen." Dylan ordered.

A Tellan's face replaced that of Rommie's on the viewer. His flat paper white skinned features were grammatically similar to that of a human's. The only real difference being the Tellan's lack of a nose. Two small teardrop shaped nostrils gapped in the centre of his face where his nose should have been. And his eyes were twice as big as any human's and he blinked lashless lids slowly.

"Captain Hunt. I am First Minister Co'Mark, I speak for President Go'Mek." He said in a low baritone voice, "we welcome you to Tellan Three."

"We were honoured by your invitation." Behind Hunt, Beka rolled her eyes.

"As we are honoured by your acceptance."

"My crew and I are looking forward to the celebrations." That was true, at least.

"The president has sent his personal shuttle to your ship. It will arrive shortly. Please instruct your crew to enjoy its many facilities on the journey to our capital."

"Thank you. Will we get a chance to meet with the president?"

"You will be expected to dine with him tonight."

"We look forward to it." And Dylan bowed politely, "Vinn Verr."

The aide's large eyes seemed to shine, "you speak our tongue well captain."

"I was coached by Ala'Torn himself."

"A story I would much like to hear, captain. He has long been a hero of mine." He bowed, "Vinn Verr."

* * *

Trance sat at the medical computer searching the files as Dylan had told her, but her mind was elsewhere. Her face was creased with worry and her tail slowly curled back and forth. The tattoo…. How could he have a tattoo? It wasn't possible…. It couldn't be possible…

Could it?

How would she explain this? Everything she'd worked for, everything she was… how could Harper destroy it all like this? He was her friend!

Wasn't he?

Was there more going on here than even _she _knew about? Was that possible too?

Her head lifted up, sensing….

It was time.

She stood up and walked into the morgue where they had laid this Harper's body. She let her hand rest on his chest over his cold and still heart. Her eyes fixed on the ornate tattoo circling his port.

She took a deep breath, "Harper?" She whispered, "c'mon, you're not dead…. You only think you are."

The pale corpse did not move. Her hand felt no beat.

"Wake up…"

Still there was no response and she sighed. Maybe she'd been wrong about the time. Maybe she was wrong about the tattoo, maybe _this_ Harper had it drawn on because he's thought it looked good, not knowing its significance and not because…

She was trapped between wishing that the tattoo meant nothing, just an ordinary, every day tattoo…and not wanting Harper to die when he was 27. Trance turned and went back to the computer and continued flicking through the files.

She had been there for several minutes when she heard a voice. "Found anything?"

Trance looked around. It was Beka. And behind her…

Her eyes widened and Beka read the shock in them and turned.

The no longer dead Harper was drinking in the sight of the purple alien, staring at her in disbelief.

"Trance…" he choked out and rushed over to her. He cupped her face delicately in his hands, disbelief and unashamed joy radiating from his eyes. "You're-you're alive, I can't believe it."

"That's just what I was about to say about you." Beka said.


	3. Three - A Long, Long Time...

Three - A Long, Long Time…

Beka was on him in a second, pulling him away from the startled girl. He was obviously weak and he wobbled on his feet, staying upright only because of Beka's grip. 'Harper' spun round in her grasp at her words and touch. She gasped a little at the disturbingly familiar smile that flashed onto his face.

He gazed at her with enormous appreciation for a moment. "Boss!" He cried and scooped her up in his arms and spun her around. She was so surprised she let him. He put her down before she could gather her wits and tell him too.

"What the hell are you doing?" Beka demanded. "And who are you?"

The man pulled back, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Harper. Seamus Harper."

Trance stared at him, even more colour leeching from her face. She hadn't uttered a word, had barely moved, almost in a kind of shock. Beka didn't blame her.

"I've known Harper since he was a skinny kid," Beka said, "he still is a skinny kid and you…You're no kid."

Something dark and ugly crossed his face and Beka shivered. "Yeah," he murmured, "but ya know I'm me?"

The way he moved…. The way he spoke… That smile… And the DNA tests… Beka looked away, angry at the wave of seemly irrational fear she felt. "Yes."

He relaxed a little and let out a breath.

"Dylan?" He asked, "Rev? Tyr? You're all here?" His eyes became hopeful, "Lauren?"

Their blank expressions gave him their answer to that last name and his disappointment was tangible. But Beka sensed he wasn't really surprised by the news. _Who,_ she wondered, _was Lauren?_

"Man, I never thought I'd see you guys again."

"What do you mean?"

That sobered him, and a look Beka had rarely seen on him creased his features. Something cold and bitter slipped over his face, filling his eyes. It was ugly…and so was the tone of his voice when he spoke. "I need to talk to Dylan."

* * *

Rommie's holoform fizzled into being at Hunt's side and the captain turned in the Slipstream chair to face her. Her eyes seemed to be looking inwards, as if she were concentrating on another part of the ship.

"Dylan we have a problem."

And to confirm it, Beka's voice sounded from the comm, "Dylan, you'd better get down to the med deck. There's some…something you should see."

He looked at Rommie, "I hope that's the same problem."

"Yes."

"Good." And he got out of the chair. He got half way to the door when Rommie spoke again.

"I am receiving a transmission. The Tellan transport is requesting permission to dock."

The captain sighed.

* * *

The little craft had taken quite a beating. If the Andromeda hadn't found her when she did, it would have been torn to pieces in the ravages of the Stream. Tyr knelt beside the pod and peered into its tiny compartment. It was cramped, even for someone of Harper's slight build and Tyr had to bend uncomfortably to lean in. The interior was padded, offering the occupant some protection in a landfall. The only controls were a small handset; pathetically inadequate for the job it was designed for. Tyr picked it up, the circuits were fused and it smelt badly of ozone; it's components fried into one blackened melted mess. It was unlikely that they would be able to eke any answers from it. But Harper, _their _Harper, was talented, and he was faced with his own extinction, that was a powerful motivator…even for a human.

Rev and Rommie looked down, hopeful that he had discovered something of use. They had been trying to decipher the words on the pod, but the surface was so scored and corroded that only Rommie was able to recognise the outlines of letters. She stood beside Rev, her eyes scanning the badly damaged words. She was having a hard time even recognising the characters, let alone reading it, and as for **translating** it…that would take time.

He put the control to one side, "I doubt that it will give answers." He told them quietly and he lent forward again to check the inside, taking care to watch for booby traps and security devices. There wasn't much in the tiny compartment. There were only two items he could find, a blanket and a toolbox. He pulled them out and lay them on the deck of the cargo bay, knowing the others were watching.

Tyr checked the lock on the toolbox for any security device. There didn't appear to be any. In truth, he hadn't expected there to be, but you had to be certain. Survival depended on it.

He opened it and sorted through the few contents. There were a number of tools, of course; their usage he couldn't identify, but he trusted his instincts when they told him they were not weapons. A silver bracelet, engraved with strange alien script, clattered to the deck. Tyr picked it up. He couldn't read the writing and Rev's headshake informed him that the Magog to had no idea what it said. It did not appear to have any monetary value and he tossed it back into the pod.

Then he took the last item from the toolbox. He stared at it and his eyes fell upon the corner. "I believe I have something."

* * *

In the end, Dylan had sent Rommie, in android form, to meet the transport while he headed down to medical. He hated the impression that would leave with their hosts, but it couldn't be helped. He guessed Trance and Beka had found something conclusive on Harper's body and at the moment that took priority.

Harper's body…

It didn't seem real. A Harper from the future, the near future if he were only 27. What had happened to him to send him back here? What had killed him? And how the hell was he going to explain this to his chief engineer. How do you go about telling a boy he has only four more years to live?

He walked into the medical room and froze. The familiar form of Harper was standing with Beka. He'd hoped to keep Harper from discovering about his doppelganger until they had some answers.

He felt ice run down his back when he realised Harper was staring at him in amazement then he rushed forward. "Dylan!"

And that was when his conscious mind noticed that his blonde hair was longer, hanging down over his eyes. He was the future Harper.

The dead Harper…

Dylan tensed, took a deep breath, "you gotta lot of explaining to do."

"Yeah, like how you came back from the dead for a start," added Beka. "I thought only the purple one did that." To her surprise, she saw Trance pale even more at that. But then the comm sounded and that took up her attention.

"Dylan, we found-" Tyr began.

"I'll come up there." Dylan interrupted; he didn't want the no-longer-dead future Harper to hear whatever it was that Tyr was about to say. He didn't understand what was going on, but he knew two things.

He knew he hated it.

And he didn't trust this Harper.

"Trance," Dylan said, "give Harper a full physical, make sure he's OK. Harper…"

The young man smiled slightly but Dylan noticed it didn't touch his eyes.

Dylan held out his hand, "welcome back."

Harper took his hand in the age-old greeting and shook, "thanks Boss."

* * *

Dylan entered the bay where Tyr and Rev were checking over the pod. They looked as tense as he felt. Whatever they had for him wasn't good.

But what the hell, it couldn't beat the news he had for them.

Tyr was holding a data transparency, the kind used for reading text and schematics. "This was in the pod." He said and handed it to Dylan.

Dylan glanced at the screen and scrolled down the words, "it's an old Earth novel, Huckleberry Finn. It's a good book."

"Look at the date this translation was published."

Dylan heard his own sharp intake of breath when he read it. "That's impossible."

"Is it? He travelled back to our time."

"Dylan," Rev said calmly, "after seeing that I ran a chrono-spacial scan on the carbon scoring."

"Biologically this Harper is 27 so that should show a ratio of around four years from now." Dylan replied; he wondered if they noticed the 'is' rather than a 'was.'

"More like four hundred." Tyr murmured.

Rev held out the scanner. "According to this, he, or at least the pod, is from 478 years from now."


	4. Four - And Forever More...

Author's note: This chapter contains a couple of mild swear words that are allowed under a "PG" rating in the UK. I am not sure about America, so if you feel the use of these words needs a "PG-13", let me know and I'll change it. NorthernStar

Four - Forever More…

Andromeda had barely time to change into something more formal to meet the Tellan transport. She doubted any of the government would be on board but creating a strong and positive front wouldn't be possible if she allowed anyone from the planet's authorities see the ship in a less than orderly fashion.

The air lock opened and a small party stepped out. A tall, stern faced Tellan woman with broad shoulders and large black eyes. Beside her was another woman, a human woman with cinnamon skin and darkly shadowed eyes. And behind them both, two huge bodyguards.

Rommie put on her most dazzling smile. "Welcome to the Andromeda, the foremost ship of the New Commonwealth."

The stern woman gave her a withering look, "the _only _ship of the New Commonwealth." She said tersely, "where is the captain?"

"He's been detained for the moment. If you'll follow me I can give you a tour of the Andromeda and then I will escort you to the bridge where Captain Hunt will-"

"You will take us to the bridge now."

Rommie fought down the need to strangle this woman, "if you prefer."

"I prefer. I have no interest in your ship and to be honest, I have no interest in your commonwealth. But the president doesn't share my view."

Her tone was decidedly frosty and Rommie considered lowering the temperature of the room to show this woman what frostiness _she_ was capable of. But her human aide gave the AI an apologetic smileand she realised the rest of the party would suffer the cold too.

"If you'll come this way…"

* * *

Seamus Zelany Harper rolled out of his bed and trod on something hard and sharp. He let out a howl, grabbed his sore foot in his hands and hopped to keep his balance. He succeeded for about 10 seconds before he came crashing down among the junk that littered his quarters.

"I gotta reprogram one of those droids to do some cleaning in here."

Rommie's hologrammic form appeared beside him, arms crossed, "do your own dirty work Harper."

"Rommie!" He flashed a grin and lay a hand over his heart, "in my quarters. This is all so sudden!"

"You've been awake for six minutes and your mind is already in the gutter. I believe that's a new record."

"Only cos you put it there, baby." He smiled, "and hey, come by tomorrow and we'll see if we can get it down to four minutes."

He got to his feet and stumbled through the bits of machinery, clothes, data transparencies and tools towards the bathroom. He disappeared inside and she heard the distinctive sound of water running. His head popped round the door with a cheerful leer on his face, "wanna join me?"

She didn't even dignify that with an answer and moved further back into the room to give the man some privacy while he showered. Dylan had asked her to occupy their Harper while they questioned the future Harper and tried to make sense of everything. The captain planned on getting the engineer down on Tellan and off the Andromeda as soon as possible, but until then she had to keep him from discovering that there was now _two_ of him on board. Send him on a wild goose chase down the Slipstream Drive exhaust chasm if nessicary, but on no accounts was he to be told there was another him on the ship.

She listened to Harper singing, surprisingly well, in the shower and she fought down her annoyance at the government co-ordinator her android self was escorting to the bridge. And she was running through Tyr and Rev's data to confirm their findings. And about a million other ship wide operations too.

After nearly fifteen minutes, Harper emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and using another to scrub his hair. He grabbed a white T-shirt from the 'clean' pile by his bed and went to pull it over his head. He noticed Rommie was still there.

Before he could say anything, she got there first; "I'm detecting a glitch in my central slipstream processors." She lied. Tracing through those systems would take days.

"I just upgraded 'em last week!"

Rommie frowned, "then it is possible that my self diagnostic perimeters have become corrupted and need realigning."

He sighed, "gotta stop by the med deck first," he tapped his throat, "gettin' a cold." He was putting his underwear on as he spoke and he jumped when Rommie snapped, "NO!"

"Relax, the towel's staying on 'til they're up."

Rommie's eyebrow's shot up.

"I meant," she said coldly, "that the realignment should take priority. Without proper self diagnostics, I am vulnerable."

"It'll take five minutes," he protested, "c'mon, Rommie, this festival we're goin' to is, like, the biggest party in the twelve systems, I can't miss it cos I'm sick! Where's that heart I gave you?"

"I will tell Trance bring you some anti-virals."

"Rommie, I gotta go past the med deck on my way down there, I could just-" He stopped and she knew she was in trouble. "You're stalling!" He accused her.

"No."

"I gave you that face and I know when its lying to me!"

She stared him down; "Trance will bring you the anti-virals." She repeated.

* * *

Trance made her way down to the Slipstream Drive chamber, glad of the chance to get away from the med deck and the future Harper. She had been nervous in his presence, fighting down the urge to both beg him to tell her the truth and talk about what was going on inside her head right now. It wouldn't matter anymore; her secrets were nothing now.

Harper knew them anyway…

That he _would_ know them one day somehow didn't surprise her. His curiosity about her was nothing new and their close friendship, her trust in him, was already lighting the way to that truth. But he wasn't ready to know them _now_.

She wasn't ready for him to know them now.

She transferred the hypo of anti-virals she carried to her other hand and reached out to open a door. She wasn't going directly to Harper, there was somewhere she needed to go first.

She stepped through the doorway into the darkened cargo hold where Tyr and Rev had taken the lifepod for storage. She let her eyes adjust to the gloom, not wanting to activate the lights and alert Rommie to her presence in the bay. Gradually her eyes grew accustomed and she was able to make out the shape of the lifepod sitting in the middle of the huge and otherwise completely empty cargo bay.

The pod's blackened surface called to her and she walked towards it. Faint outlines of words peeked through the scaring. No one would ever be able to read them… even if they had have been whole and undamaged.

But she could…

"Light," she read, and a little further on, "souls."

That was all she could see. The rest was too blackened to make out. She knelt down and looked into the little compartment. Something glittered in the dull light. Trance reached out and picked it up. It was a bracelet…

The bracelet…

She stared at it in horror and flung it across the bay. It clanked against the wall somewhere and fell to the ground.

It couldn't be…. It couldn't be….

* * *

Dylan debated whether to delay the meeting with the Tellan party and question the future Harper or leave that conversation for later. He decided that Harper could wait and barely made it to the bridge himself when the doors opened and the Tellan party walked in. Two men, obviously bodyguards, and two women who he guessed where the representatives of the government.

He stood to greet them and held out his hand. "Welcome to the Andromeda Ascendant."

The human woman smiled; the Tellan did not. And unfortunately, it was the latter that replied.

"My government sends you its greetings." She said, "I am Tinn'Marr, chief Co-ordinator of the Darva Celebrations."

"Captain Dylan Hunt," he smiled ignoring the acid in her voice. "I'm honoured to meet you. My crew and I have been looking forward to the festival."

She indicated the human woman at her side. "And this is my aide, Kell'Lee."

The human smiled, "Kelly Long." She corrected, "on behalf of the human population of Tallen, welcome to our world."

Dylan smiled in reply, momentarily lost in her warm honeyed voice.

"Captain Hunt," Tinn'Marr interrupted, "we have been delayed long enough. I was instructed to escort you and your crew to the Palace and have been treated most rudely."

"I apologise."

"Accepted," she replied in an icy tone. "However, if you'll follow me…"

"You'll have to forgive me. I'm afraid some of my crew will be detained a little longer. Only my first officer my chief engineer and myself will be attending the presidential dinner tonight. The rest of my crew will join us as soon as possible. Hopefully this situation will be resolved before the Viv-En-Tor ceremony."

"My government was under the impression this was an organised ship of the line. What could possibly take up so much attention in orbit of our world?"

"Just a few _minor_ difficulties."

"I see." Her eyes narrowed, "Now if you allow me to escort you to our world, captain."

* * *

Beka groaned when Rommie's holoform appeared in front of her and instructed her to join Dylan at the landing bay. With everything that had happened, she'd forgotten the Andromeda's mission here…and the looming prospect of being paraded, in full formal wear, before the Tellan's media. In a toss up between that and having her nails pulled out, she knew she'd be less concerned about doing the latter. Still, there was now a reason for bargaining…

"What about him?" She shrugged her shoulder in the direction of the doorway. It led through to the small bay where the future Harper was taking a shower. She tried to sound as casual as possible.

Rommie wasn't fooled; "I will watch him."

Beka looked surprised.

"From here." The hologram added.

"Rommie, I know Harper better, I think I should be the one here."

"And that has nothing to do with having to dress up for the President's dinner tonight?"

Beka sighed, "what'll I have in common with a bunch of pompous in-bred…" she saw Rommies look, "…Tellans?"

"For Dylan's sake, I hope it's more than you think." The AI replied, "Tellan has great influence with the surrounding systems. If they sign the Commonwealth agreements, the other governments will be more interested in following suit."

Beka had heard all that before and it still didn't make her happy about having to dress up and make simpering small talk with boring politicians.

Rommie watched her go, uncomprehending of her dislike for these things. A few minutes later, the future Harper came into the room. He was wearing a High Guard uniform that Trance had found out for him and his hair clung damply to his forehead.

"Hey, Rom, long time, no see."

"Trance told me you're well enough for questioning."

"Ooo, 'questioning', don't you mean interrogation?"

"No. We mean you no harm. If you are who you claim to be, you should know that."

"So when's Dylan comin' up to give me that thumb-screws?"

She ignored his comment; in fact, his familiar joking tone took the edge off of her nervousness. "Dylan will be off the ship for a few days, I will be talking to you."

"Lemme guess, Tellan Three?"

Rommie hid her surprise.

"I overheard you talking to Beka."

For a split-second she wanted to ask him if the government would sign the treaty. But that knowledge could change their actions here, change the future. Whatever else happened here, the timeline had to be preserved.

Didn't it?

Something like a smile curled his lips and she wondered if he knew what she was thinking.

"Party with the animals." He murmured.

* * *

Harper tossed down the spanner and sniffed back yet another trickle from his nose. Where the hell were Trance and that hypo? He'd finished realigning the diagnostic controls just as Dylan's voice had sounded over the comm, telling him to get down to the docking bay. He'd forgotten about the Festival after his bizarre conversation with Rommie in his quarters. As he'd suspected, there hadn't been anything wrong with the controls. She was stalling him… But why?

He hadn't been able to get anything else from her and their conversation had descended into the usual, but, and the memory made him grin, enjoyable quips.

He sniffed again and decided he couldn't wait any longer. He climbed to his feet and began walking in the direction of the docking bay. Fortunately the route would take him near the med deck. He would just pop in there for something and be at the Tellan transport along with everyone else, pumped full of antis and ready to party.

He chuckled at the thought. "Party with the animals," He muttered to himself.

* * *

Trance reached the engineering alcove that Harper was supposed to be working on. She looked around and saw the tools he'd been using laying haphazardly on the floor. That boy never did clear up after himself.

"Harper?" She called hopefully as a nameless dread crept over her and a thousand possibilities presented themselves like thread in a tapestry.

Footsteps behind her and she turned, "I brought you…Beka!"

"Where's Harper?" She asked, "Dylan wanted me to make sure he didn't see… himself on the way to the docking bay."

"He's not here."

Beka's heart rate leapt up, "you don't think…?"

The pair turned and ran for the med deck.

* * *

Harper strolled through the main medical bay, heading towards the bio-systems area where the purple alien spent most of her research time. "Trance?"

He entered the main diagnostic area and saw Rommie in her hologrammic presence just standing there. Her face was determined as she walked towards him, but he thought he recognised a touch of agitation in there too. That surprised the hell out of him. He didn't know what was going on, but already he didn't like it.

"Trance has gone looking for you." Rommie told him, stopping in his way.

"Great." He walked past her. "Guess I saved her a trip. Long way down to the Drive."

"No." Rommie's hologrammic image blipped out and blipped in again, switching position to stand in his way once more. "You should go back to engineering."

"I haven't got time. The Festival, remember? Besides, I know what I'm looking for." And he stepped around her again.

She again blipped into his path. "NO." She said firmly.

He stepped around her, "Rommie…"

"I forbid you to go in there." Her hologram was back in his way.

This time he stepped _through_ her. "Look I only wanna cold cure…"

"I will put up a force field."

"Over a cold remedy? Rommie, friendly advice, stick to decaff from now on, OK?"

"Hey Rom," another voice came the doorway, and Harper felt a cold shiver down his spine. "Gotta say hello to me, y'know."

Harper stared at the man in the doorway. It was like looking in the mirror…no, not an ordinary mirror but one of those warped and bubbled mirrors in fairgrounds. The ones that made you fat or thin, short or tall.

His other self walked towards him, "Seamus Z Harper!" His voice was full of delight and Harper found himself matching his grin, more through shock than anything else.

The man put a hand on his neck and gave him a friendly shake, "God, look at you…at _me!" _He inspected his younger self; "I was such a skinny arsed bastard." And he ruffled Harper's hair.

Harper found his voice, "you're….you're…. ME!" So this was what the other's were hiding.

"Yeah," the other him grinned, "killer, ain't it?" And gave him a 'all lads together' type friendly punch in the stomach.

Harper doubled over, more from surprise as pain. He straightened up slowly, frowning at his other self in confusion. He took his hand away and time seemed to grind almost to a halt. He heard Rommie call his name and he felt his eyes go wide with fascination at what he saw slicked across his palm.

Bright hot blood trickled down his arm, tracing delicate lines and dripped to the floor.

Then his eyes fell away from his hand to look down at the huge red stain spreading across his shirt. He frowned and he looked up at his doppelganger, not understanding. "Why…?" He whispered.

And then everything went black.


	5. Five - Watching Bridges Burn...

Five - Watching Bridges Burn…

Rommie leapt forward as Harper's body crumpled to the deck, his limp form slipping through her insubstantial arms. In that second, she simultaneously alerted Dylan and the rest of the crew to the situation and erected a field around the room to prevent the future Harper from escaping.

She knelt by Harper, scanning his vital signs. His blood pressure was dropping fast and his heart was racing to keep his blood flowing to his organs. The surgical scalpel had punched his left lung, any higher and it would have been his heart. Blood gurgled in his throat and stained his lips.

"Why?" She demanded over her shoulders, "that's you! If he dies, you die!"

The older Harper contemplated the blood on the knife he held, "that's what I'm hoping for."

* * *

Half way to the docking bay, Rommie stopped. Her humanoid face paling a little, or was that just Dylan's imagination?

"Rommie?" He asked, concerned.

"Dylan, its Harper! He's been stabbed."

"Which one?"

"Ours." She frowned, "Dylan, it was the other one who did it."

Dylan turned to Tinn'Marr, "I'm sorry, it's an emergency."

He turned and ran, missing the disdain on the Tellan woman's face. Rommie was close behind him; almost bumping at his heals. As they disappeared down the corridor, Dylan thought he heard the woman mutter something about it being just what she'd expected.

Tyr reached the med deck first, entering the room at full tilt. He saw Harper lying in an ever-increasing pool of blood and wondered vaguely how such a puny boy could have so much in him. Then he saw his attacker and shock registered on his face.

"He's still got the knife!" Warned Rommie.

That awoke Tyr from his shock. Whatever had happened to bring this man back from the dead was nothing compared to the threat that scalpel in his hand held to Tyr's survival.

Rommie lowered the field and let Tyr into the future Harper's space. The older boy looked at the surgical scalpel he had taken from the OR and tossed it into the air. It spun end over end, spilling tiny red droplets into the air. Harper caught it by the blade and held it out.

Tyr's face showed his distrust as he slowly took the knife from him. As soon as he had it in his possession he quickly moved to restrain the man. Harper offered no resistance what so ever.

Dylan raced into the room, immediately saw that Tyr had restrained one Harper and Rommie kneeling at the side of the other, her face creased with worry. Her insubstantial hologrammic hands tried to touch the injured man and offer him comfort. He could read the distress her inability to do so was causing her.

Dylan lent over the bleeding boy and assessed the damage. The main worry was blood loss; it was jetting out of Harper like a flood.

"Arterial damage." He murmured, "his lungs been punctured."

"Dylan, he's going into shock." Rommie warned.

Trance flew into the room with Beka only two paces behind. The alien's little girl-ness evaporated in an instance as she began barking orders.

"Get him into surgery." She snapped, "I'll need an immediate blood substitute hooked up. Beka, get him some oxygen, he can barely breathe..."

Dylan picked Harper up as carefully as he could, wincing at the little moan of pain that came from the stricken boy and carried him after Trance.

"What shall I do with him?" Tyr asked.

Beka stared at the future Harper with disgust. "Put him in the brig."

Tyr pushed him forward and as they passed Beka, her hand flew out, quick as lightening, grabbing Harper by the throat. "If he dies…" She warned.

"Some threat, Boss. So will I." He laughed bitterly, "looking forward to it."

She had him against the wall in a second, so fast that even Tyr didn't have time to react. Surprise registered on the future Harper's face but not the fear she'd been expecting.

"Beka!"

She shot Tyr a 'stay outta this' look, but then she slowly released Harper, "I dunno how, but if he dies, you _will_ pay."

And she threw him towards Tyr and stalked out.

* * *

Dylan strode into the brig; his shirt still stained with Seamus's blood. He remembered trying to hold the boy's body still as he writhed in pain, barely conscious, his eyes wide as he drowned in a world of agony. He remembered the slick feel of the blood…and the smell of it. The raspy sound as Harper fought for breathe; the gurgle of blood in the back of his throat. The sight of it dribbling out of his mouth.

In all his years in the High Guard, he'd never seen anyone bleed so much.

Dylan shook the memories away as he stopped in front of the cell. The occupant looked up at him.

The future Harper smiled, "I'm still here so I guess I'm hanging on in there." He said conversationally, as if he were talking about the weather. "My immune system works better than I thought."

Dylan clenched his fist, fighting back his anger. He'd been lax in his duty. He hadn't followed his instincts when he first saw this Harper alive. He should have thrown him in jail right then and there. At least until they had answers. But he hadn't.

And now Seamus was paying the price.

He let down the force grid holding this Harper in the cell and walked slowly…dangerously…up to the man. "I want answers!"

"Don't always get what we want, do we?"

Dylan grabbed him and pushed his back up against the wall in a second. "You will tell me!"

There was no fear in Harper's eyes. No concern what so ever.

"Why did you stab him? He's you!"

No answer.

"Answer me."

Still no reply, no sign that he'd even heard the question.

"Harper, if you don't answer me, I'll see to it that the next time you die, you'll stay dead!"

He roared with laughter. "Boss, if you could…that be a reward, not a punishment."

"Reward?"

Harper smiled bitterly, "I'm immortal."

"What?"

"Want answers? Want it all nice and clear?"

Dylan waited, staring the man down, not wanting him to see just how desperately he needed to hear those answers.

"Get me a couple bottles of scotch, and you can have my spleen."

* * *

Beka slipped quietly into the IC bay where Harper lay. The lights were dimmed and the air was warm. The panel over the bed blinked and whirred as it monitored the boy's lifesigns. Trance had assured her he was doing well and that all this equipment was merely precautionary for the next 24 hours. Dylan had asked her to take his place at the President's dinner tonight. The shuttle was due to leave soon, but there was something she needed to do first. Someone's hand she had to hold.

She took Harper's cold hand in both of hers, trying to bring some warmth into his fingers. She felt a flash of surprise when she saw his eyes flutter open.

"Hey." She said.

"Man, I had a wild dream," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "There was this other me."

"He stabbed you."

"Yeah, how d'you…" he trailed off, realising where he was. And what that meant. "Oh. Where is he…er, me?"

"In the brig."

"Why'd he…? I mean, he's me."

"I don't know. But I promise you Seamus, I'll find out."

* * *

They looked like a couple of drinking buddies, sitting on the floor of the brig, backs leant against the wall. Dylan held a large glass containing a double measure of scotch. But he'd barely even sipped it. Harper hadn't bothered with the glass Dylan had given him and just drank heavily from the bottle. When he had enough alcohol warming his belly, Harper began to speak.

"Four years from now, they'll be a battle. And I mean a battle, a _big _battle, historical, bloody, makes the Witch Head look like a day at the beach. Us against them."

Dylan frowned. "Them?"

"You'll find out." He took another swig. "Anyway, the Andromeda falls, and the Maru, Tyr's pride…virtually everyone. I was injured…woulda died too." He shrugged, "got given immortality. I don't die and I don't age. 27 going on 505."

Dylan did a quick calculation, 478 years… that fit with the results of the chrono-spacial scan. But he still spoke the words, "that's…hard to believe."

"Maybe, but I know you too well. That's not your 'oh yeah?' face."

Dylan didn't answer. He was silent for a long while and then asked, "what did you do all those years?

"Most of everythin.' First hundreds a blast, y'know. Do what ya like, drink, drugs…" he smiled, "rock 'n' roll. Your wife grows old and you don't. And pretty soon you're burying her. But that's nothin' ya didn't expect. You talk about it and she tell you its OK if you want someone else…someone younger. Someone when she's dead. Then a few more decades go by and you're first kid dies and you don't. And another child, and another… but you're there for your grandchildren and you take so much comfort from that, you know?…it's…everythin'. But then _they_ die…and you can't. And you're there for you're great-grands…but then they die." He laughed bitterly, "Fulla death that second century and you start your third and you've got so many great-greats running around you never know any of them enough to get close to. Just turn up at the funerals and the weddings. 'Hey there's the guy that created us all, the one who doesn't die.'" He looked away and took another mouthful of scotch. "They hate you for it, in the end. Burying their parents, their wives, husbands…their own kids…" Dylan watched the memories cross Harper's features and he felt tears prick his own eyes in sympathy. "Their stillborn babies that never got a chance to live…And them looking at you and wishing you were under there instead of them, 'cause that's where you shoulda been a long time ago. By the time you get to your fourth century…you can't take it anymore and you walk away…. And then you have nothing. Pretty soon everyone you ever meet is just another walking corpse. And you know somethin'? You envy them for it. For being able to die."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah…" He murmured. He was silent for a long while, lost in his thoughts. Dylan sat with him, waiting for more. Wanting to ask him how he came to be in the Stream; how he had travelled in time, before time ran out and he had to meet with the Tellan co-ordinator. But the words never came out.

After a long while, Harper put the empty bottle down and spoke again.

"If you care at all about me…about the Harper you know. Pray he dies tonight."

* * *

Beka watched the Andromeda through the observation port of the Tellan transport. It grew smaller and smaller the further away they went and every kilometre hurt like hell. She wanted to be back there with Harper. He was a member of her crew. No, _more_ than just her crew, he felt like her little brother. She wanted to get answers. She wanted…

She wanted to be doing anything other than making nice-nice at some presidential dinner.

Rommie lay a hand on her shoulder, but didn't speak. The avatar knew any words she gave right now would be unwelcome. Rev was there too, talking softly with one of the guards, a fellow Wayist. But for what she could hear, his heart wasn't in the conversation.

Quiet had fallen over the crew, heavy with concerns and questions for which there were no answers.

* * *

Trance walked quietly into the room. There was nothing but silence. Nothing but the all-enveloping cloak of darkness in the brig. She had watched Dylan leave, knowing he had to meet with the Tellan co-ordinator. He would be gone for a while and this might be her only chance.

Her feet made no sound as she came ever closer to the only occupied cell. She could just make out the sleeping form on the cell's only bed. She watched him for a moment, taking comfort in the even rise and fall of his chest, knowing that meant his younger self was doing well. She had hated leaving her injured friend unattended, but she knew she must.

A whisper broke the peace, filled with warmth.

"_'She is older than the rocks among which she sits; like a vampire, she has been dead many times, and learned the secrets of the grave; and has been a diver-'_"

And Trance took over, "…_'in deep seas, and keeps their fallen day about her.'_"

Harper sat up and moved softly to the very edge of the force grid. He stood so close to her that she could feel his breath of her cheeks, a tender smile on his face.

She looked deeply into his eyes, "who taught you that?"

"You did, you said you knew the moment we met I'd say that to you one day."

Tears trickled down her cheeks but she didn't know why. Maybe it was the poem…or the look in his eyes…

"Hey, ya know I hate it when you cry."

"You have the Gift, don't you?"

"Gift, curse…pretty much the same thing."

"Who gave it to you?"

"Don't you know?"

You're alive… the first words he'd spoken to her echoed through her mind, words who's hidden meaning _could not_ be possible. And she knew. She'd always known; she had just tried to deny it.

the first words he'd spoken to her echoed through her mind, words who's hidden meaning be possible. And she knew. She'd always known; she had just tried to deny it. 

"You did…" He confirmed and sadness filled his eyes. "And I hate you for it."


	6. Six - The Path You Wish To Go...

Six - The Path You Wish To Go…

Dylan walked into the IC bay on the med deck. He knew he couldn't stay long, but he didn't want to meet the Tellan's again until he'd looked in on Harper. His conversation with the young man's older self had served only to fuel the questions whirling inside his mind instead of silencing them.

He stopped by Harper's bedside, shocked at the pallor of his skin. The memory of all that blood flashed before his eyes. Trance had told him it was because of a deficiency in his blood coagulant. Something she'd been able to rectify quickly.

The young man's eyelids flickered in REM sleep and Dylan hoped his dreams were pleasant. He thought of what he'd heard about Harper's future. And what he knew of his past… So many terrible memories… and so many more, all waiting for him in the future, century after century until he was driven to try to kill his younger, mortal self.

The thought sent a shiver down Dylan's back. Was that the reason? Had he travelled back solely for that?

He didn't know. But he swore he would… if it took forever.

He left Harper's bedside and walked back through the med deck. And it was then he realised her absence.

He frowned, "Trance?"

His voice echoed ever so slightly through the empty room. There was no reply.

* * *

"MY Gift," Trance murmured. "You-you said I was dead…. And I can't die. NO!" She tried to deny it. "I wouldn't…I _couldn't! _The Gift…wouldn't…" 

"Trance…" He reached out to touch her but the grid prevented him from doing so.

She backed away, shaking her head as if she thought she could make it a lie if she tried hard enough.

"You know it's the truth."

She was silent a long time, her head down, staring at the floor. He ached to touch her and to comfort her. Feelings he thought had been buried under the weight of all those centuries, and the pain they'd brought him, began to break out of the resentment that had hid them.

"Trance…" He whispered, his voice full of longing.

Then she looked up, determination in her eyes. His breath caught in his chest. He knew what she was doing and watched with fascination the process he thought he'd never see again. She shut her eyes and the image of her sleeping beside him flashed in his mind…

Trance….

She let the world slip away, almost as if she were hovering above it and the Universe was nothing but a grain. The threads wove around her, realities and possibilities were like Strings she could follow. But it was too jumbled even for her to see.

Something was jumbling them…

She opened her eyes.

"I…" she could feel her body trembling, "I want to know why."

Harper looked away. "It's a long story."

"We're eternal beings," she said quietly, "we have time."

He smiled, "I didn't want time, Trance."

She saw something glisten on his cheek and realised it was tears. Her hand started for his face to gently brush them away, but she fought the impulse down.

"I never wanted to live. Not even the length of life I should have had. That other me, up there on the med deck, he doesn't care if he dies. I never did."

"No, he does!"

"I had so much…ugliness in my life. Even when there was Lauren…and you." He chuckled, "even Rommie. I didn't want forever of that. I never understood how you could know that and still…I still don't and I want to forgive you. Wake up every day hoping I can…and I can't."

Trance felt tears form in her own eyes. "The Gift…" her voice faltered a moment, then came back strong. "The Gift isn't about you. It isn't about me. It's about…" She stopped herself in time, biting her tongue. Knowing she'd said too much already. "It would never have transferred if it didn't think you were worthy."

"I wasn't. I'm not. YOU thought I was…" His tone was sharp and he stopped. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more like the young man she counted as her best friend. "Like I said, long story."

"I want to understand." She murmured, "tell me."

He looked to the door, "what about Dylan?"

Trance looked at him; he could read the indecision in her eyes. Then, before she had a chance to change her mind, her hand shot out and switched the force grid off.

"We can talk in my quarters."

* * *

Beka had thought her uncle Sid lived in sumptuous apartments, but his couldn't even hold a candle to these. The room was lavishly decorated, designed to offer the most comfort and convenience while maintaining its rich and stylish look. The sofa she was sitting on was both firm and soft. Just relaxing upon such luxury was enough to send her off to sleep. Not that that was really surprising, by ships time, it was coming up to midnight. 

Rommie floated into the room, dressed elegantly in a long red gown with her hair immaculately curled and pinned with a clip. She looked faintly annoyed that Beka was still sitting there in her underwear, but not surprised.

Beka looked up, "how's Harper?"

"Sleeping." She then looked a little awkward, as if unfamiliar with giving 'girlie chats' "He will recover."

"Are you sure?"

"The…odds are in his favour."

"_How_ in his favour?"

"Approximately 80."

"That's not good enough for Harper!"

"I have taken into account his weakened immune system and the effects of childhood malnutrition."

"He's a member of my crew, I should be there."

"Trance is more than competent to care for him. And Dylan needs you here. The mission-"

"I don't care about the mission, I care about my crew!"

There was a knock on the door and both women turned to glare at it. A thickly accented Tellan voice told them that the guests were being seated.

"Time to put on my party face…" Beka said through tight lips.

It wasn't a question but Rommie answered it anyway. "Yes."

Beka reached for her dress and decided Dylan was going to be apologising for a month if she had to dance.

* * *

"Where's Trance?" Dylan asked the ship and Andromeda's hologram appeared at his side. 

Rommie looked inward a moment, scanning for the alien. "She is in the brig."

Dylan felt a little bolt of concern flash through him. "With Harper? What are they doing?"

"Just talking. Should I-"

"No." He could guess what Harper was telling her. And they still needed answers. This might be the only way to get them. Dylan shook his head, trusting his gut, "let them talk."

"Dylan…"

"He won't hurt her. And he has a lot to talk about."

"He tried to kill himself."

"I don't believe he's a danger to anyone else." Dylan smiled, "especially not Trance. I want you to monitor their conversations. Warn me if anything happens."

* * *

Dylan strode onto the bridge where Kelly Long and her personal guard had been waiting. A hologram of Rommie was quietly showing her the bridge and explaining some of its functions. He could read the polite, but bored look on the woman's face the moment he walked in. 

Quietly damning the situation that had turned their invitation to Tellan Three into a problem instead of a pleasure, he approached them.

"I am so sorry." Dylan said, when he reached them. "This isn't how I planned our visit to your home."

"We understand, captain. A member of your crew was hurt. That had to take priority. Our president will not hold it against you. In fact, he will be heartened by your loyalty to your crew." She paused, "how is he? The man who was stabbed."

"He's conscious. The next day or so could be rough, but he's got a good chance."

"If there is anything we can do, please ask. Our medics are quite brilliant."

Dylan considered it a moment, but Trance wouldn't want Harper moved unless it was absolutely nessicary.

"Thank you."

She nodded once and returned to business. "Captain, Tinn'Marr has returned to the Palace, but she instructed me to advise you about the Festival. We want you to fully understand the implications of the Viv-En-Tor ceremony. And what you will be seeing."

"I have attended one." He smiled, "but that was a long time ago."

"Co'Mark mentioned that you had, during the reign of Ala'Torn. He will be disappointed that he will not have the opportunity to speak with you." She paused, "then you are aware of what happens?"

Dylan nodded. "Who is the Viv-En-Tor?"

The girl looked surprised, "I thought the First Minister told you." She smiled, "I am."

His eyes flickered to the guard and suddenly his presence made sense. "But you're human."

Kelly smiled, "equal rights. Besides which, I fit the…requirements."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not." She smiled, "I get to bring meaning to my death. How many people can say that?"

* * *

The dinner had been as sumptuous as the living quarters. Beka counted eight courses before she gave up and just enjoyed what was put in front of her. She was starting to realise why Dylan was so fond of these things. The food was delicious and being waited on hand and foot was definitely something that could grow on you. 

The young man she was sitting next to, Bir'Mark, was the son of the president and his warm sense of humour had filled the boring spaces between the courses. Rommie seemed to be handling the presidents' questions about the New Commonwealth, and that suited Beka just fine.

When everyone was finished, they moved into the "lounge" although this was considerably bigger than the largest of Andromeda's cargo bays. Bir'Mark stayed at her side, introducing her to various people before snagging the arm of a blonde haired girl.

"This is my friend." And there was enough of a pause between the last two words to tell Beka that they either had been, or he would like them to be, more than friends. "Her sister is the Viv-En-Tor."

She held out her hand, "I'm Lauren."

Lauren… the name whispered through Beka's mind. Her gut instinct kicked in and she knew.

This was the Lauren Harper had mentioned.

* * *

Harper remembered the heat of Trance's quarters and the abundance of plants and small potted trees. The deep pile rug in the centre of the living area… He had been wandering so long that he'd almost forgotten what a real home felt like. 

Almost…

He sank to the floor, curling his body on the familiar rug and propping his head up on his hand. Trance followed suit, but settled on her stomach instead of her side.

"Always said ya needed a fire." He smiled, "'course, then you'd say-"

"Harper, don't."

"Don't what?"

"Talk about us…like that." Her arms moved closer to her body, as if to offer protection, or comfort. "You said you'd tell me."

"Then I gotta talk about us, y'know. Trance, that's why you can't see the Strings."

"How do you know about the Strings?" She demanded, trapped between anger and fear.

"Trance, I know…" He reached out and traced his finger along her jaw, "I know everything about you…"

And after a moment, he began to tell her.


	7. Seven - Forward/Back I

Author's note: This is the first part of the story that the future Harper is telling Trance. The rating from now on is PG-13.

****

Seven ~ Forward/Back I

****

Four Years Forward…

He heard Beka screaming in the night again. And he could guess what her dreams were showing her. He had woken that way from nightmares, many times. He lay there, listening, debating whether to go to her, knowing his help would not be appreciated. And just when he'd been about to get up, she'd stopped. 

Harper settled back in the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin, trying to forget what he'd heard.

Forget what he'd seen so he wouldn't have the dreams like Beka.

But he couldn't forget.

None of them could.

A battered and bleeding Rev fighting the pull of his own people as the crew watched helpless from the cages…knowing they were next.

The Magog's cries had hurt their ears like nails down a blackboard. He tried so hard not to scream, not to distress his friends but as the Magog hammered stakes through his hands and feet, he finally gave in the urge to scream. The sight of Rev impaled on the Sacral Wall was there every time he closed his eyes at night. 

And when the mob had finished tormenting him, and the blood trickled in tiny rivers down his matted fur, all the crew could hear was Rev's voice. The prayers for his tormentors souls repeated over and over, getting ever weaker as the night wore on. Morning came and his voice was barely a whisper…but he still prayed.

Still lived…

Then as the chill of the evening set in, the wind biting cold on the open plain, the voice had stopped and the Magog's body hung limp on it's stakes.

Then the only sounds had been the quiet sobs of his friends.

That had been the beginning of the end. 

They had survived, but their souls had not.

******

****

Dylan was silent, his hardened face showing no sorrow. The Illition was winning…slowly. Clawing more and more of the systems back from the New Commonwealth. They could do little else but stand by and watch… Dylan was losing. And not just the war. 

Harper looked across the bridge at the man in the slipstream chair; he was but a shadow of the strong, determined man they'd pulled from the Hole four years ago.

He was still strong…but from brute force not personality. Dylan had had to bury his compassion and drive to fight this war. Harper wondered if he'd ever get those qualities back when peace finally returned.

And he was still determined…but not to rebuild the Commonwealth, but to save the tatters of the one he had created. By any means nessicary.

They worried about him, Trance and Lauren and himself. Rev had too, before… They tried to be the voice of reason and good conscious he could no longer except in himself. But Beka supported him, 100% and maybe a little more. Harper always got a kick outta that.

Over the years his bosses had argued themselves into the same corner. They fought as one now.

__

Speak of the devil…

The bridge doors swished open and Beka strode in. Her eyes were deeply shadowed from the lack of sleep she'd suffered since Rev's death and they stood out even more brazen in her lovely face since she'd shaved her head.

Like Dylan she was shadow of her former self; terrible experiences had taken their toll. She didn't care about winning anymore, just making sure the evil bastards they were fighting lost.

They were all going to Hell…

"They're amassing at the Vale boarder." She said tersely.

Dylan looked up, "another favour?"

She ignored him. "What're gonna do?"

"We go in." His voice was emotionless.

Harper dropped an Electro-spanner and jumped to his feet, "that's suicide!"

"Have you got a better idea…mister Harper?"

He shrugged awkwardly, "no…but…" He straightened up, deciding to make his point. "They pasted us the last six times…ship's barely together as it is."

Dylan stared at him, as if he didn't have time for him anymore. It hurt. It always hurt…because he'd believed in Dylan.

The captain turned away, his voice final. "I said we go in."

******

__

"Lauren?"

"Our Doctor." Harper smiled, "she'll be joining you very soon. We met her here, on Tellan Three. I had a cold and…we got talkin.' Her sister dies, she had no one else and we needed a doc. She wanted to bring meaning to the Universe. You two never got on."

"Why?" Trance frowned. 

"You guys were so territorial." 

"Because she took over my medical duties?"

He flashed a grin, " kinda think it was me."

******

Harper followed the Maru's progress as best he could. Glancing at the view screen, checking the visuals and constantly asking Rommie for an update. He worried about Beka. Far more than he worried about the rest of the crew, she was following the path he himself had followed as a youth. The path that openly accepted death as a career move because living wasn't all that attractive.

Sometimes…most times, he still felt like that, but it was tempered by knowing other people's lives depended on his survival instincts. But Beka had crossed the line to the point of not caring.

She'd been through Hell in the last year. He only hoped her attachment to the Eureka Maru would keep her from doing something noble… and ultimately suicidal.

"All hands brace for impact!" Dylan's voice screamed over the comm. Two seconds later the ship lurched sickeningly as it hit another fighter.

"Emergency protocol. The hull has been breached." Rommie's voice sounded calm in the face of her imminent destruction, "abandon ship. Repeat, abandon ship."

******

The Andromeda lurched under fire, totally defenceless against the Illitions fighters. Klaxons sounded throughout the ship as Harper ran across the deck, ducking coolant leeks that spat toxic gases and dodging the open currents of electricity from the exposed and damaged circuitry.

He had to get to the officer's deck. What the hell had that purple babe been thinking? Heading in the opposite direction to the lifepods?

He reached her quarters and tried the door. It was sealed shut. "Trance!" 

He threw himself at the doors, again and again, trying desperately to get them to open. Hot wiring would do no good, there was nothing left of the ships internal workings to hot wire.

"TRANCE!"

He could feel the tears pouring down his cheeks, see the blurring of his vision as they welled in his eyes, and yet he didn't feel the sorrow.

The tears were on autopilot… and so was he. The pain would come later. If there was a later.

A crack appeared between the two doors and he gasped out in relief.

"SEAMUS?" Lauren's voice shouted and he realised she had followed him. As if he and Trance weren't being suicidal enough, she had to go and join in too.

"Laurie, help me!" He yelled back as he pulled on the doors, "Trance is trapped!"

She was at his side in a heartbeat, adding her strength to his. She and Trance might not get on, but that was just the way their friendship worked. Neither wanted to see the other die.

The doors slid open enough for Harper to squeeze his thin wiry body through. Lauren tried to go after him but realised she would have to stand between the doors to hold them open. 

Harper immediately saw the alien girl crumpled on the floor, blood seeping from a large gash on her head. Harper reached her, choking on sobs of relief. 

"Is she OK?" Lauren called

Harper checked her breathing, saw it was even and hoped that was a good sign. "Yeah, think so."

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her through the doors. They began running down the corridors; Harper praying the ships' bulkheads would hold until they got to the pods. If not, they would be blown out into space to drift forever in the airless vacuum. He'd seen so many bodies out the windows already and he had no wish to join them. 

Half way down the corridor Trance stirred in his arms and he looked down to see her eyes flutter open. He lost no time in berating her.

"What the hell did ya think you were doing?"

"I needed…I…" she wiggled in his arms, "put me down. I can walk…I mean, run."

He stopped and let her down but didn't take his hands from her sides until he was certain she was upright and safe. Then he gripped her hand and began pulling her after him as they ran through the darkened corridors of their wreaked ship.

"Can't believe you came down here! What was so frellin' important you nearly get yourself killed over?"

"Well, I had to… I couldn't leave my…. It's…important!" she gasped out, breathing hard from the run, 

"What…?" He demanded, breathlessly, "what is more important than being alive tomorrow?"

"My bracelet."

He actually stopped running. "Your _bracelet!"_

She held out her arm and he saw it around her wrist, small and thin, with some kind of script on it. He didn't think he'd ever seen her wearing one before.

"Don't roll your eyes like that," she murmured. "This bracelet is important, Harper."

"Look, sorry to break this up, but guys…" she waved a hand around, "Andromeda's about to go bang!"

Harper gripped Trances hand again and they headed for the lifepods.

******

The voice of Andromeda echoed through the upper decks, warped and corrupted as her systems failed. The floor seemed almost to tilt to one side, like a boat on heavy sea. Harper knew it was only in his mind, but his stomach was churning anyway. The ships' gravity was failing as her failsafes breached one by one, allowing more of the atmosphere to blow out into space.

They had to get to the pods and quickly. He wondered where Dylan was, and Rommies' avatar, wishing the comm was still up so he could make sure they got off safely.

__

Crack!

Spider webs of electriity curled and crackled out of the panels for metres in front of them, spitting and lashing wildly. Creeping up the walls and stabbing at the air like jagged blue fingers.

Harper snapped to a halt, feeling Trance and Lauren bump into him at his abrupt stop. 

"We'll have to go back!" Lauren cried and turned around. 

Harper grabbed her wrist. "No, we don't have time!"

"We can't go-"

"We have to! There's room to walk through, just keep low and don't touch the walls."

"We'll fry like an egg if we got through there!"

"Harper's right." Trance put in. "This is our only chance!"

Lauren rolled her eyes, "oh yeah, 'course you'd agree with him!"

"We don't have time for that, Laurie!" Harper snapped and forced her to her knees. Then he began crawling through the electricity. 

Fingers of blue danced and crackled above his head, lashing out, teasing them with the threat of death. He felt Trance at his heels and looked back. Lauren was wavering at the beginning of the corridor. He could hear her muttering the affects of voltage shocks to the human body.

Being a doctor could sometimes screw with your head.

"Laurie, c'mon!"

But she didn't move and he could read the naked fear in her eyes. 

"I've gotta go get her." He told Trance, "can you go round me?"

"No, I can-"

"You two'll just start arguing," her mouth opened to deny it and he spoke over her, "and not letting you go back, OK?"

Some emotion crossed her purple sparkly face but he didn't stop to register it. He carefully curled his body around Trance's and slid past her. Her skin felt like silk when he brushed it. 

He snaked towards Lauren and when he was close enough, gripped her arm and pulled her forward. He saw the surprise on her face at his strength and forcefulness. 

Maybe it was that surprise, or his insistence, or maybe… just maybe…it was his touch on her arm that propelled her forward. And once she'd started crawling, she seemed a lot calmer. 

He led her through the lashing bolts of blue towards Trance, his vision narrowing to nothing but the woman behind him and the one in front.

Trance brushed a cable and Harper yelled out in alarm. "Trance!" 

The girl scuttled back as the cable coiled and hissed; the sparks coming from its fibre optics made it jump and move.

Move towards Trance…

The girl backed as far away as she could, until her back was almost touching the wall and she could go no further. Harper shot forward the moment he saw what was happening, trying to push the snaking electrical wire away from her with a non-conductive tool from his belt. 

He had to wriggle sideways to reach it but succeeded only in pushing the cable closer to Trance. He realised he'd have to stand up between the ripples of electricity if he wanted to get that wire away from Trance completely. He looked up and Trance saw what he was going to do.

"NO," she cried, "Harper don't!"

But he stood, leaning precariously to the side to avoid a large current by his head. "It's OK, I'm just gonna tap it outta your way."

"No, it'll be really bad!"

He reached out with the tool and hooked the cable. He tensed for a moment, expecting to feel the shock as he earthed. But there was nothing. He carefully looped the cable over the panel and let out the breath he'd been holding.

Trance was safe.

"Thank you." She smiled.

"Hey, anything for a purple sparkly babe…" 

The ship lurched violently to the side as another bulkhead gave and more of the ships' atmosphere vented out into space. Harper lost his balance and fell forward, landing at Trances' feet. The electrical cable came loose and swung towards Trance.

"TRANCE!" He heard himself scream as he threw himself in front of her…in front of the cable…

The lashing fingers of electricity touched him.

"Harper!"

His body danced and shuddered in the streams of electricity. Both women screamed at the comm, hoping beyond hope that there was enough left of the ship's sentience to hear them and respond. Then the power cut and the corridor was plunged into darkness.

Harper's body slumped to the deck, released. Rommie had managed to perform one last act before she died.

"Is-is he breathing?" Trance cried.

Lauren pressed her cheek against his mouth. "Yes, but barely."

Trance stroked his brow and leaned over him to press her forehead against his. She made no attempt to move; her eyes dazed. 

Lauren realised it would be up to her to get them off the ship.

"There's massive internal bleeding." She said. "We shouldn't even be thinking of moving him in this state!"

But she grabbed his arms anyway and pulled him out of Trances' embrace. "Trance, help me!"

"B-but…"

"We don't have time! Now help me!"

Tears streamed down Trance's cheeks as she did as Lauren ordered. They both knew Harper's injuries should be attended to now, but they didn't have time to spare. They managed to cradle him as comfortably as they could and began towards the lifepods.

******

He could hear their voices. Muffled and echoed, like they were coming from very far away. And he could feel warmth…a heat he guessed was blood pooling in his chest. There was pain too, but detached from him, the way the memory of pain was.

And that was all that existed for him.

******

Most of the smaller pods were gone. Malfunctioned in the fighting or taken by the small crew Dylan had collected over the years. As Lauren searched for a functioning pod, Trance glanced out the small portal to see the Maru hanging dead in space just beyond them. A large hole spoke of how she had died and Trance wondered which of the tiny specks floating around the ship was Beka's space ravaged body.

She shuddered, closing her eyes to the biggest failure of her life. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This wasn't the future her destiny had ordained she create. The Eternals didn't lose.

"Help me!" Lauren yelled, snapping Trance out of her thoughts.

They bundled Harper into one of the larger four men pods and climbed in after him. As soon as Lauren had the airlock sealed, Trance pulled the release bar down. Hydraulics hissed and the small craft fell back into space.

"Whrere's the med kit?" Lauren demanded

"Here!" Trance pushed it into her hands.

Lauren began to rifle through the few contents; injecting Harper and ripping his shirt open to reveal his chest. Ugly blue-ish red bruises collected along the left side. Lauren gasped and her fingers fumbled as she tried to hurry. She got the chest drain in as quickly as she could. Sticky red fluid began flooding out of Harper's chest, but his breathing seemed to improve.

"How is he?" Trance asked, knowing already.

Lauren's voice was bleak and bitter. "Dying."

"He can't! Do something!"

"What?" Tears tracked her cheeks, "with what?"

"There-there must be something…"

"There isn't."

"You can't just sit there and let him die."

"I'm a doctor, do you think if there was something I could do I would do it?"

The med scanner screeched an alarm and Lauren immediately lent over her patient.

"He's fibrillating!"

Trance held out the paddles before she could ask for them. Lauren pressed them to Harper's chest and with a whine, they activated. Harper's body jerked stiff.

Again and again…

"It's not working!"

"NO!" Trance sobbed, "Harper…please."

******

He was floating. He could see himself laying there on the padded surface of the pod. God, he looked like shit right now. 

And Trance…

He could see the fear and the grief on her face and felt a flush of warmth at the thought of her caring that much for him.

******

"I can't lose you!" Trance yelled at him, "I won't…not now…" 

Why hadn't she told him what she was? Why? If he had, this would never have happened. He would have known she couldn't die…

She pushed Lauren away from Harper and took the young man's arm. She held it up with her left hand and gripped the fingers of her right around his right forearm. Despite his unconscious state, his fingers curled around her forearm. It looked like a warrior's handshake; their wrists level with each other's and facing inwards…but separated only by the bracelet around Trance's wrist.

Trance closed her eyes and let go of everything…her needs…her guilt…her pain and grief…

Even…

Even her…her love of Harper…

Nothing corporeal existed in the Strings…

******

There was calm in the Light. A peace he'd never known. It was love. Pure, untainted love… he was going to exist in the midst of love. And everyone was waiting for him, ready to embrace him and hold him forever in that all-encompassing love.

Harper began towards the Light.

And a voice… No, a song… No, not even that. Like the cries of a whale echoing through the seas. It was language…

And he could _understand…_

He concentrated… what was he being asked?

****

"Are you worthy?"

__

Worthy? To go into the Light? 

Was this a test?

****

"Of the Gift…" The voice replied, although he had not asked the question.

"Yes he's worthy!" Trance's voice whispered desperately. "Worthy of life!"

There was pause… and the Light beckoned to Harper. And just beyond it was all the people he'd ever loved, waiting to welcome him.

But he was anchored in this nether place; he could not move.

"He is worthy!" Trance insisted, even more desperate than before. "I give him my Gift freely. It is my choice."

****

"You understand the consequences?" 

Trance's voice was quiet. "Yes."

****

"Then he may join us in unending life…. What is your name?"

"H-Harper, Seamus Harper."

****

"Serve the Eternals well, Harper… There is much work to be done."

__

Eternals…?

******

Harper felt warmth and that blissful sensation that comes after pain recedes. He opened his eyes and found himself looking right into Trance's. She had such beautiful eyes.

Then he realised her hand was gripping his arm and he lifted his head a little to see.

"Wh-what did you do?" Lauren asked, "I…I saw the bracelet…. It just melted…and moved onto his wrist. And his wounds healed!"

Trance's hand went limp and her body slumped backwards. She curled herself into a ball at the back of the pod and didn't answer. 

Harper reached out to touch her, and then he saw it. The bracelet glinted in the light.

"Man, that'll never go with my eyes."


	8. Eight - Forward/Back II

****

Eight ~ Forward/Back II

The air inside the tiny pod grew cold and frigid. The oxygen could be recycled for well over a year, but they would have perished through thirst and hunger long before then. The supplies inside would last them nearly six months if they were careful. But they would be wasted and sick from the confinement. 

They huddled together for warmth, keeping Trance in the middle of them. Whatever she had done to heal Harper had drained her. Dark circles had formed under her eyes and she dozed fitfully, waking every so often to ask Harper if he was OK. They gave up asking her what she had done; they never received an answer.

While she slept the two of them sat in silence, too shocked by the destruction of the Andromeda and the lose of their friends to make conversation. The scene out of the tiny portal was beyond anything they had ever seen. So many lives…

Lauren stayed alert, checking Trance and Harper's vital signs every so often, the questions in her mind about what she had seen keeping her awake even if her sense of duty hadn't. The alien girl hugged her knees and fell asleep. Harper dozed too in the warmth of their bodies pressed so close.

Some hours later, a Gol'Frei rescue scout found them…. 

******

Harper looked out of the window and saw nothing but debris. Pieces of ship, engines… even people… floated in the void for as far as the eye could see.

What was there left? 

He wanted…

No, he _needed _to see Trance, but when she wasn't sleeping, she was helping tend the wounded in the medical bays. The scouts picked up many survivors… and five times as many corpses. He had volunteered for the duty himself when he'd been given a clean bill of health. 

He knew his questions would have to wait.

He wanted to know how she had healed him and tell her about the wonderful dream he had had.

Near death experiences…. 

He'd heard about them, of course. And had even met a girl once who'd claimed to have had one. But he had never believed in them.

Until now.

The Light…the peace… One day he would go there and belong in love. It was so much comfort to know that was waiting for him on the Other Side. Pain and sorrow might define his existence here, but he would know peace.

"Seamus?"

Lauren touched his arm and he smiled. She held two mugs of coffee and offered him one. He took it gratefully. The ships doc was probably his best friend after Trance, but he always got the feeling she was hiding something.

******

__

"She was in love with you?" Trance guessed.

"Yeah…" Harper shrugged, "guess I was a bit blind."

******

"I'm worried about Trance." Lauren said quietly.

"Yeah, me too."

"I've never seen her like this." Lauren sipped her mug, "she's so….lifeless."

"Yeah…guess its…" Harper settled on the floor and leant back against the window. "Everything is gone, y'know?"

"I don't…" she looked awkward and stopped the thought before she could finish it.

"Don't what?"

"I don't think that's it. She changed after…after she healed you."

__

Healed….

His heart rate leapt at the thought of answers…"What happened in the pod?"

Lauren looked away, "I don't even wanna think about that!"

"Laurie…I need to know." He wasn't good with conversations like these; they were too close; too personal. "I gotta know what's wrong with Trance."

Hurt flashed across her eyes and he didn't know why.

"Please…"

"I hated seeing you like that, OK. And I couldn't help you! I just had to watch… I'm a doctor and I… there was nothing I could do."

So that was the hurt he'd seen?

Maybe…

But his gut was telling him 'no.' 

No, he didn't want to deal with this right now. Once again his questions would have to wait…

He sighed and let his eyes return to the starscape and watched the flotsam drift. They had won the battle but so far no-one knew who had won the war. 

Did it matter?

Harper did not believe in winners and losers anymore. There were only participants, each winning against his own personal demons and losing against them too. And all in different ways.

How many of the frozen, torn corpses out there, hanging limply in the endless black of space came from the winning side? Thousands probably, and they had all won the same prize as the losers.

Death…

The Universe's great equaliser.

Everyone is born; everyone will die. An unchanging constant

"I wonder where Dylan is…if he's OK."

At her words, Harper realised they been silent for a long time.

He didn't know the answer to that, he could only hope that he had survived. And Rommie too…

The though of the ships death brought a raw ache to his heart. His ship…

His Rommie…

Had her avatar survived being cut off from the ship? Had she even had time to get to a lifepod?

The uncertainty was somehow even more terrible that knowing the truth. He had been out on several runs already in a little Scout, picking up the pods, the corpses…

It wasn't pleasant work; most of the people were dead. And each one brought a flash of hope that it was Beka or Dylan. And it was followed by a wave of relief each time the corpse turned out to be someone else.

He hated himself for that.

He and Trance were all that was left…and Lauren too; he quickly amended, telling himself that he had only been thinking in terms of the original crew and not…

Not what?

He and Trance… It just went together, no questions, no arguments.

And no suggestions of a third party either. 

Lauren finished her mug of coffee and smiled, "gotta get back to it. When's your next run?"

Harper shuddered at the thought of more decaying bodies… "Coupla hours."

She squeezed his arm and went to walk out the door. She stopped.

Trance stood there, her skin pale and wan.

"Trance?"

Harper ran over to her, fear twisting in his stomach. He pulled her into his arms even before he realised what he was doing. And something far deeper twisted his heart at the feel of her body pressed so close to his.

Trance buried herself in his embrace and Lauren felt tears well in her eyes.

She knew what was wrong…

She reached out and brushed Trances' hair from her eyes, saying the words for her, "they found Dylan's body."

******

Harper lay on the rough mattress, trying to sleep. Somehow, he didn't think he'd ever be able to sleep again. 

__

Trance….

He had learned her break times and knew she was currently sleeping. He didn't know what to say to her, or think about her anymore. They were friends… weren't they?

No…they were at that point, though, the one where looks and smiles suddenly have a different meaning…

And you're just beginning to realise it.

Lauren joked about him and Trance, and sometimes her comments were quite sharp. But he'd always guessed that was her personality.

Maybe she was sensing something…

He pulled back the covers with a sigh. There was no way he was getting to sleep so he began to wander the empty corridors of the freighter. He finally found himself at the cargo bay that was being used for the female survivors to sleep in and he recognised the purple form of his best friend quite easily among the more sedate colours of the human animal.

He sat down at her side, resting against the wall and watched her sleep. She was very pretty…in a purple little girl way. 

He felt his eyes close involuntarily and his head jerked up. He was falling asleep…

At last…

When had he last slept? On the pod? 

That had been over 40 hours ago.

40 hours? Was that all? God, it felt like a lifetime already.

He sighed; maybe he could just have a doze…

He shifted position and lay in the narrow gap between Trance and another woman, pillowing his head on his arm. He looked across at Trance and smiled at the lock of blonde hair hanging loose. He reached out and brushed it behind her ear.

Her eyes flickered and she mumbled something.

"Shh…" he murmured, "s'OK."

The girl wriggled a little and curled into his side. His arm automatically went around her and she snuggled in close.

******

"Hey, Hopper! Hooper, whatever the hell you're called, quit cuddling yer babe. Time to go."

Harper opened his eyes and groaned. His arm was completely numb; his neck had a crick the size of the Grand Canyon and even worse that jerk Mitchell was rabbiting at him.

He gently disentangled his limbs from Trance's and hushed Mitchell; afraid the big goof would wake her. 

"C'mon, it's our shift." He said more quietly, "looked everywhere for ya. Wouldn'ta found you at all if it weren't for that doc friend of yours."

So Lauren had guessed he was with Trance… Why did that bother him?

He carefully pulled the blanket around Trance to make up for the loss of his body warmth and got up. Mitchell was already half way to the cargo bay doors when he caught up with him and as he fell into step with the man. He could hear him muttering under his breath; something about having to spend yet another six hours cramped in a Scout with 'some no-hoper and a buncha corpses.' Harper decided it was gonna be a long day.

******

Four hours and thirty-five minutes later, the day hit a high. Harper pulled a life pod in; his heart had begun racing the moment he'd seen its markings. It was from the Maru. He barely waited until the airlock had finished pressurising before he opened it. 

The single man bullet shaped craft in the airlock relied on cryogenics to protect its occupant. He looked into the window through the ice crystals that had formed on the glass.

He saw her face, blood stained and pale, with those deeply shadowed eyes… and the blonde stubble on her scalp.

"Beka…"

He keyed in the release, praying she was OK. 

He opened the casing…. And the day hit rock bottom.

The smell hit him even before he could check her vitals. She'd been dead a long time… the cryos had failed even to keep the body fresh.

He fell back on the deck, choking on the bile that had risen to the back of his throat.

Mitchell covered his nose. "Jeez, someone wasn't big on perfume was she?"

Harper had the guy by the throat and rammed him against the bulkhead without even realising it. Rage, grief, bitterness… his body shook with the force of his feelings. 

Mitchell hit him across the jaw.

He fell back and his anger vanished, replaced by sorrow. But he couldn't cry. Not in front of this jerk… maybe not ever… 

Tears had always felt selfish and empty to him.

Mitchell knelt at his side, looking awkward and apologetic. "Knew her, huh?"

"Yeah…"

******

His mother had always told him that for every sorrow there was joy. Harper had learned that while his life had never run to 50-50 with that, there was some truth in it.

He carried Beka's body himself, cradling her in his arms as he walked to the morgue. She was a slight woman, even more so in the last year. Eating and sleeping were luxuries that Beka didn't allow herself. And when he got to the morgue, his heart leapt. Standing outside was Rosa.

Her little face broke into a grin when she saw him and he did his best to hide Beka's injuries from her. He kept his eye on the little girl as he took Beka into the morgue and laid her on a slab; afraid she'd vanish like a dream if he so much as blinked. The little girl made no attempt to follow him. She had obviously been told to wait.

And a good little Nietzschean girl does as she's told.

He covered Beka and let the morgue. Rosa's face was set when he knelt down as if she knew what he wanted to ask. "Rosa…your da…?"

"Krin says he doesn't know." She told him.

"And ya mother?"

"Dead."

He cupped her little head in his hand, "I'm sorry."

"That's OK." She said with good Nietzschean confidence. "Daddy had three wives, so I have three mothers really. I can spare one."

Harper felt a chuckle tickle out of his chest. Tyr would be very proud of his eldest child right now. 

"Rosa!"

Harper turned to see Tyr's second, Krin, staring at them. He shuddered at the thought of leaving Tyr rescue and Tyr's children to the tender mercies of this bastard. 

Krin addressed Rosa as if Harper wasn't even there. "It is time to go."

Harper met his eyes, "Tyr?"

"If he survives, we will find him." He stepped closer; "it is not you're concern."

Rosa did not murmur when Krin gripped her shoulder and propelled her forward, but she did give Harper a last smile before they disappeared.

******

The following morning the main Gol'Frei freighter cruiser was decked with the flags of the hundred or so Commonwealth worlds that had lost soldiers in the battle. The central hall filled with species of every kind, all united in their grief and their desire to pay their respects to the fallen. 

When Harper arrived, the hall was so full of beings that he was forced to stand at the back. He searched the faces for one particular purple one, but she wasn't there. He didn't blame her for not attending. He had been to one too many of these things in his life to ever want to attend any more.

And yet he kept on going…

The memorial service was long. Many people spoke of Dylan's bravery and the vision he had had for the restoration of the Commonwealth. Harper found their sentiments to be false and glib.

He knew the man…

But he did not speak. He wasn't about to sully Dylan's memory for the gawking, mawkish masses in the hall.

He felt someone take his hand and he turned, a smile on his face. It wavered a little when he saw it was Lauren and not Trance.

"Hey…" She whispered.

"Where's Trance?"

He was surprised by the brief glint of anger in her eyes, but it was gone so quick he couldn't really be sure he'd seen it.

"She said she'd be along in a minute. I think them finding D…finding the body kinda shook her." She looked guilty…and maybe some other emotion flickered in her eyes. "I didn't tell her about Beka…I thought…I thought you'd wanna do that."

He nodded and they turned their attention to the memorials.

"…And with the going down of the sun, we will remember them."

Harper let the words fade into the background and his eyes unfocused. His mind's eye drifted and the pictures it showed him were far more vibrant and real than the sights in the hall.

Everything narrowed until the only sense he had was of Lauren's hand in his. And when that finally ceased, his imagination flowed and ebbed like the tide.

****

"It is time to begin your journey, Harper…"

He flinched, gasping as if water had been thrown in his face.

Lauren reached out to steady him, her arm snaking around his waist. Her touch was light, but steadying. "What?"

"I thought…did you…hear…?"

Then he noticed the tears on her cheeks, she brushed them away self-consciously but he envied her that ease of emotion. He held out his arms and let her cuddle into his embrace. She curled there like a little girl seeking the reassurance of her parent. He let his cheek rest upon the top of her head and was enveloped by the sent of her hair. He closed his eyes and his mind once again wandered beyond the stimulus of his physical form.

****

"You are of us…"

It was but a whisper…but he tensed all the same.

Lauren squeezed back; thinking the tightening of his arms had been something entirely different. But he didn't notice, there was only his mind, drifting like wood on the sea…

******

In the following days, he didn't get to see much of either Trance or Lauren. With the hours he was pulling in the recovery and their long shifts in medical, they barely had time to eat and sleep themselves, let alone check up on the others. On the occasions they had shared lunch or breaks, they were all too tired to talk.

Harper had taken Trance to the obs deck after the memorial service and told her about Beka. He kept from her the part about finding her body, feeling guilty for doing so. She looked so exhausted he couldn't add to her pain. 

Her eyes had filled with tears at the news and he had folded her in his arms and held her. Trances' eyes seemed to become even more shadowed each time he saw her and her skin had turned pale and dull. More so than he would have expected with the work and the loss of their friends, their ship…

Everything they knew…

He worried about Trance, more that he cared to admit, even to himself. Even when Dylan was becoming ever more driven and blinkered, centred on winning his war, she had been the calm, persuading him when no one else could.

And even when Beka had been jailed in that Hellhole they'd rescued her from, and she'd taken a razor to her beautiful hair in a fit of self-hatred and rage, Trance had been there, offering more comfort by her mere presence than a million words could.

And for him…she'd been there when he was sick, had comforted him quietly…she'd even held him when he cried…

And she could let him cry. Something he barely even allowed himself.

She was Trance…

Pure and unchanging…

Beautiful…

******

The forest moon of Call'Teha was quiet, the air filled with nothing more than the occasional rustling of the leaves in the slight wind. This was the place the Council of the Commonwealth had decided their heroes would be laid to rest. It held a peace and a beauty that was missing in the rest of the 'civilised' worlds. Dawn had only just broken and its faint crimson tinted light hit the gravestones. A small group of people stood together and paid silent respects to the dead.

Dylan and Beka had been buried side by side, as they had fought and died.

In a twisted, bitter way, it was a final irony.

The few surviving members of the Andromeda crew, the staff Dylan had inspired to join them over the years, said a few words of thanks for their sacrifices and left. In the end, only he, Trance and Lauren were left.

Lauren had watched her two friends for a long while, knowing her presence was superfluous. With faint hurt in her eyes, she had left them.

And then it was just he and Trance…

And their memories of the life the Illition had destroyed.

For over an hour, the pair stood in silence, never touching.

"I failed..."

Harper frowned, "huh?"

"I failed…" She repeated, "you…Dylan…Beka…"

"Trance…"

"It's true…"

"The Illition did this, Trance."

She walked away from him, away from the graves. He followed her, and the pair walked in silence for a long while. Eventually, when the headstones were nothing but specks in the distance, Trance stopped and faced Harper.

"We gotta leave here, Harper."

"Leave?"

Her tail curled behind her, the little movements betraying her anxiety. There were things they needed to talk about. Things he desperately needed to hear the answers too, but not now…

He didn't want it to be now. But, like so many things, it didn't seem he had much choice in the matter.

She took his hand, "Harper…I…I have something to tell you."

His lips twisted into a smile, "this where I get to find out where ya from?"

"Yes…" 

"'Bout time."

"…But not now."

"Well, it was great while it lasted."

"Harper…"

Feeling surprisingly playful, he matched her tone. "Trance…"

"It's about what happened on the shuttle…"

Harper looked at the bracelet…Trance's bracelet. People had laughed at him for wearing it, but he hadn't taken it off. "You healed me."

"No…no I didn't."

"But…"

"I gave you…its called the Gift. I was given it a long time ago and I…I gave it to you."

"Gift? Ya mean the bracelet, right?"

"No. The bracelet's part of it, but…" Trance looked away, "the Gift is…"

He waited for her to finish but almost a minute passed. "Is what?" He prompted.

"It's very old. Maybe as old as the Universe, I don't know…or who created it, or where it's from. I was just…I did something, a long time ago, something bad." She lowered her head in shame, "please don't ask me what. But afterwards I…I wanted to atone for it. But I couldn't live with myself so instead I…I tried to…you know, suicide."

Harper gasped and reached out to touch her. She shivered at the memory and looked at the hand on her shoulder as if she felt unworthy of it. "It's OK…I know…you can hate me for it."

"Trance…"

"I didn't understand! I thought…I just wanted the-the hurt to…stop…"

"I'm not judging you."

******

__

"I-I told you that?"

"Trance, I meant what I said. I done a lotta stuff I'm not proud of. I don't blame you." 

"Maybe…maybe you wouldn't say that if you knew what I did…"

"What makes you think I don't know?"

******

She shrugged him off and he knew there was little he could say right now to convince her. He would have to show her through his actions.

"But it didn't work?"

She smiled, "no it worked. And I would have died, but someone…a Persuid…gave me the Gift."

"Like you did on the 'pod? Arm holdin' and bracelet melting?"

"Yes."

"Why?" He wasn't sure which of them he was referring too. "I mean, people don't go 'round do that sorta thing."

"He said I was worthy. That I could atone for what I did…" Her eyes looked inward, seeing her past as clearly as she saw her present. "I told him that there wasn't enough years in my life to do that. So he gave me forever."

"Forever?"

"The Gift is immortality. You never die…"

Harper let her go, pulling his hands away from her as if she had burned him. He was shaking very slightly. "You mean I…"

She reached out for him, "Harper…"

"NO." He shook her hands away; "I don't want this. You can have it back!"

"I can't, Harper. It doesn't work that way."

He felt sick and dizzy and not a little confused. How was this possible? He had to be dreaming…but the tears on Trance's cheeks and the betrayal clutching at his heart was too real. She went to touch him again and he flinched away. "Just leave me alone!"

"Harper!" She tried to catch him up, "Harper there's more, you need to-"

"I don't need anything from you!"

And he ran off.

******

He slept with Lauren that night and left before she woke, hating himself bitterly for it. She had just been there, with comfort and warmth. Guilt ate at his heart as he pulled his clothes back on. Guilt for what he had done; guilt for using Lauren... guilt for betraying Trance. He had gone into it with his eyes wide open…he had wanted to…

No…

__

Admit it to yourself, you bastard…

He had wanted to hurt Trance. He wasn't even sure why. She had saved his life; _more _than saved his life, he would never die. How many people wished they could have that?

He tried to stop his legs from carrying him there. Tried a thousand times to turn back. But he couldn't. He was at the cargo bay where Trance was roomed in a matter of minutes. She turned to the door when she saw a shadow standing there. A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth when she realised who it was then it vanished under a frown.

She slipped out of bed and padded across to him in bare feet. 

"I'm sorry." He said, knowing she would think the apology for reacting the way he had. And maybe it was. Maybe he wasn't ready to apologise for Lauren yet. Not that, in any strict truth, there was anything to apologise for. He was free, so was Lauren. That was that…wasn't it?

"Just…Just answer me one thing, Trance, why'd'ya do it?"

"I…" She tugged at the hem of her night shirt, "I didn't want you to die."

"Everybody dies…" bitterness lit his eyes, "oh, yeah, except me now."

"There's so much you can do. Like I did."

"I've done some shit in my time, serious freakin' shit but y'know what? I don't regret it. Regret havin' to do it. Regret everything that led me to doin' it, but I don't regret it and I sure as hell don't have anythin' I wanna atone for!"

Tears tracked her cheeks and his anger crumbled. He took her into his arms and found himself muttering sorry and comforts and thinking of all the things he _did_ regret in his life. Like tonight…making love to Lauren when it should have been Trance…

Should've been Trance…

She pulled back and he got that eerie sense she knew what he was thinking. But her eyes held no betrayal or hurt, as they would if she knew.

Then doubt hit him. Why should she care if he was with Lauren? Why should she care about _him?_

The low light cast her face into shadow and he couldn't see her expression. "Harper, we have to leave. There are… complications."

"You keep sayin' that." His tone was sharp.

"They'll come for us if we don't."

"Who the hell are 'they'?" 

"The other…" Her tail twitched nervously. "The others…. like you."

"With the Gift?"

"Yes. We're-They're called Eternals." She met his eyes. "That's what you are now. An Eternal."

__

Eternal life… 

Would it really be so bad?

"They understand the nature of the Universe." She continued.

The corner of his mouth twitched up, despite himself. "Always knew you weren't just a purple sparkly babe." Then he smiled; a genuine smile… "Does this mean I-" 

"No."

The smile faded as quickly as it had come.

"The Gift only gives you immortality. The Eternals ability to…_know_ the Universe is there before they became immortal."

Harper grinned, "what is the nature of the Universe?" He was not expecting an answer.

"Time, space, thought and realities…consciousness. They're all Strings, Harper. Woven together, looped and crossing, twisting together to form…" She waved her hand around, "…this."

"OK…Strings…yeah…"

"I…I believe you…that one day you'll be able to see them." She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself as well as him and he would be willing to bet she didn't believe that statement. "Be a Eternal."

"So they what? We do what? Hang around the Universe not dyin' and that's it."

Trance looked down at her feet. "They use their abilities to steer the paths of men…great men, free of the ties of mortal life."

"Dylan!"

Trance looked down, ashamed.

"That's what you meant about failing him." 

She shivered, "that String is gone. Dylan's gone…" Her eyes unfocused and stared at nothing, "I was…distracted…"

"By what?"

"Feelings…" She shook herself, ending whatever admission she was about to make and Harper almost screamed at the lost intimacy. "They'll come for us. They always do. We have to leave before that happens."

"But what'd theses Eternal guys want with us?"

"With you…They want to give you knowledge and teach what you will need."

"Steering destinies and stuff?"

She nodded. "The Gift is not really a gift. It has to be paid for…it has to be served."

"Well at least I can see why you wanted out." The sharpness had returned to his voice.

"Harper…"

He touched her shoulder to show her that he wasn't angry…not really. "But what'd they want you for?" 

"To give me…another gift…"

"Yeah? Hey we could work together on this destinies thing, y'know."

"No…This gift is Night."

"Night?"

"Death."


	9. Nine - Rivers Turn To Oceans...

****

Nine ~ Rivers Turn To Oceans…

****

Present day…

Harper's eyes were tired, haunted by the past he'd been recounting. "I didn't understand what you meant then…How our people could call death a gift…" He sat up, cold despite the warmth of Trance's quarters and the heat of her body laying just a whisper away from his. "I knew I didn't wanna live forever…but I wanted to live, y'know? But they're right, death is a gift." He looked her straight in the eye, "and you knew…you lied. It wasn't exactly a gift they offered."

Trance guessed what he meant by that and looked away, ignoring the question. She had one of her own that needed to be answered. "That's why you came here, isn't it?"

He smiled. "It's a been a long day. Over five hundred years…I wanna sleep." He touched her cheek, marvelling at the feel of the purple skin. He had thought it would never be this smooth and bright again. "My night must fall, Trance, just as yours did."

******

Beka studied the woman in front of her. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with long ash blonde hair and deep blue-green eyes. This was the woman the future Harper had known so well…had asked hopefully if she was with them.

Beka had to fight down the urge to grab the woman by the arms and shake her until she told them how she knew Harper.

But that action was pointless. This woman knew even less about what was going on than Beka did so she clenched her fists and searched for something diplomatic to say. Something that would get her answers without alarming this girl. Her own restraint surprised her; the old Beka would have just gone in fist flying. Then it struck her that it was probably Dylan having this affect on her. 

__

God help us all…

"So…Lauren…You…um, your sister's the Viventar?"

"Viv-En-Tor." Bir'Mark corrected softly.

Lauren's eyes were sad, "yes." She tried to smile, "it is a great honour."

Beka bit back her automatic quip that dying in public to mass joy and celebrations was hardly what she would consider an honour.

Bir'Mark slipped an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Kell'Lee's name will be remembered through the ages as the first human Viv-En-Tor."

"Viv…whatever, that means Messenger, doesn't it?"

Lauren nodded, "yes. The Viv-En-Tor is entrusted with messages for loved ones…apologies, words of love…that she will take with her into death. When my sister is on the Other Side, her…soul or whatever you wish to call it will find the spirits of those loved ones and deliver their words. Do you have any messages you wish to pass on?"

Beka thought of all the unfinished business she had; the loose ends in her life… All the things she wished she'd said to her father when he lived. How much she wished she had told her mother just how much she loved her…

But it was all…what had she heard it called? Soul-butter. It was all soul-butter. 

And no one could deliver messages to the Other Side…

There was nothing there to begin with.

"How was she chosen?" Beka asked instead. "There must be hundreds of terminally ill people on Tellan."

Lauren appeared to understand the change in topic and she went up a couple of notches in Beka's estimation. "Kelly has an excellent memory. That is absolutely essential and her disease does not affect her neural pathways. And she's…" the woman blushed, "…of good virtue so she's very likely to go…" she pointed upwards, "…instead of…" and she pointed to the floor. "And well, I guess there's a bit of nepotism too. I'm the GP for the Presidents family, that's how I came to know Bir'Mark. And when Kelly fell ill…she seemed like the logical choice." Sad pride filled her voice, "she's become very popular with the people, they trust her with their laments…" She noticed the odd expression on Beka's face, "is something wrong?"

"GP? You mean you're a doctor?"

"Yes."

"D'you make house calls?"

******

The Viv-En-Tor smiled at Dylan, "is there anyone I can seek out for you? A message you would like send?"

Dylan felt his heart race painfully. Each beat was an aching pain in his chest. The thought of being able to tell Sara…just once more, that he loved her with all of his heart and soul… 

And he thought of this morning, a lifetime ago it seemed, but in truth it was still the same day…Sara's birthday…

Dylan closed his eyes and Kelly understood. "Write the words…if you cannot speak them to a stranger. I will memorise them." She lay a hand on his arm, "and I promise you, I will deliver your message."

He didn't trust his voice to say thank you, knowing it would crack badly with sorrow so he laid a hand on hers to show her. She smiled.

"You're…you are very brave." He said eventually.

"I'm not…not really. Lauren's the brave one. She'll be all alone after…after the ceremony." She saw the question on his face before he had a chance to ask it. "She's my sister. And my doctor…and my friend…and my confessor…and just about everything in between."

"She…she sounds like a good person."

"She is. I'm going to miss her." Kelly tried to smile. "If I have one regret…about dying, it's that I will be leaving her alone. She shouldn't be alone."

At that moment, the lights around them brightened as the ships designated 'nightime' ended and Rommie's voice announced' "commencing daytime."

******

Trance felt a cold shiver run through her. She looked away, too tired to want to deal with this now. She had guessed she was dead in this Harper's String, but to hear the words…

To _know_ beyond any doubt…

She felt sick and scared…and terrifyingly mortal. Many people over the centuries…even Tyr…had threatened her with death, but she had always been safe in the knowledge that only the separation of her Gift would bring about eternal sleep. And the Gift could not be taken…only given. And even then the…power…would make the choice to go or stay. 

She hugged herself, frightened. How could four short years do this to them? Take Dylan and Beka and twist them into bare shadows of themselves? Bring about a Commonwealth only for it to fall in ruins around them?

And how…_how_ had she let this happen? 

How could she have failed so badly…so deeply…?

"Trance…?"

"No…" she whispered, "no I don't want to hear anymore."

"There's so much more."

"I know…and I know I have to hear it. If we're…" She closed her eyes against the sin she about to suggest. The violation of everything the Eternals taught and believed…. that _she _believed. "…If we're going to…to change it."

Harper stared at her, breathing hard, unable to comprehend or feel relief at hearing what he had wanted so many years…

Trance gasped slightly when he grabbed her, crushing her to his body as if he'd never let her go. Her heart quickened in surprise…and maybe something more. This wasn't the first time Harper had held her, but it was the first time he had done so with so much passion… She felt wetness on her neck and realised it was tears and her own eyes welled up too. She let her hands rest around him and the two friends stayed like that, locked in an embrace, for a long while.

Then Harper pulled back a little and brought his face so close to hers she could see every glint of light reflecting on his pupils and…

And a something in his eyes that she'd never seen there before. Something so warm and yet so hungry that when he closed the infinitesimal gap between them, she pulled back a little overwhelmed.

He smiled sadly and stroked the back of her head with his hand, understanding replacing that terrible something in his eyes. 

Trance looked away, placing a distance between them and noticed with surprise what time the chronometer on the wall was displaying. Hours had passed since he'd begun his tale. 

It was time for a time-out.

And besides, there were things she was neglecting.

__

Someone she was neglecting…

"Harper I gotta go check on…on you." Trance told him as she got to her feet. Harper immediately stood too and followed her across the quarters.

"I'll go with you."

"No." She stopped at the door and stood in his way. "Wait here. This won't take long."

"You're afraid I'll try to hurt him, me again. I won't."

"Harper…"

"Hey, cross my heart and hope to…"

"Die." She finished. "I can't. You understand why?"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't lie to ya, Trance."

She smiled, "I know. But I can't take that risk."

He nodded, "I'll say outside. You can get Rommie to put up a force grid, and I'll even wear wrist cuffs, but…" he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, "don't make me stay…not here…alone."

__

Her quarters… She realised. They were full of memories for him, and he had every right to a time-out from them as she had.

"OK." She said quietly.

They walked in silence up to the med deck and Trance led him through the main bays to the small warm IC room where the young Harper lay sleeping. Rommie argued a little about the future Harper's presence and the AI obviously wasn't happy with him being out of the brig without Dylan's say so, but she complied.

Harper watched the force grid go up and sighed.

******

Dylan hated these moments. The times when a captain has to put aside his own feelings and disregard his worries for the so-called 'greater good.' Morning had broken not just on the ship, but on the northern continent, home of the President and the Council of the People. He could no longer put off going down to the planet; the celebrations had already begun and at dusk, the main ceremony would take place. 

That was what they had come for…what the Tellan's had invited them to partake in. 

Dylan had to escort the Viv-En-Tor down for the ceremony, he had to meet the president, talk about the treaty…write his words to Sara… 

And he had to question the future Harper some more. Get answers. 

Of all those, Dylan the man… the friend of the young Harper, wanted to do the latter and to hell with the rest.

But Dylan the captain knew the future of the Commonwealth came before such 'small' things. This planet and its influence on the surrounding systems were simply too important to ignore.

He called Tyr back to the ship, knowing the Nietzschean preferred to be elsewhere during the ships official business anyway and would not raise any objections. He had gone only because Dylan had not.

Dylan checked on the younger Harper before he escorted Kelly off the ship. The engineer was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the concern and worries about him…about both of him…

Then, hating himself for doing so, he turned and left the young man' side. Kelly was waiting for him out the main medical area and they began slowly walking towards the airlock. Neither of them spoke and Dylan let the calm and peace of this simple activity wash away the heaviness in his heart.

It helped…but only a little.

When they reached Andromeda's largest docking port they stopped to wait for the Tellan transport. It did not take long before the airlock hissed open and the occupants to come out. Tyr, of course…and two others, one was Beka, dressed in a long black evening gown with her hair immaculately styled. The other woman he did not recognise. But it was obvious that Kelly did. 

The Viv-En-Tor stepped forward and embraced the thin, blonde haired woman beside Beka. When she finally let her go, she turned to Dylan. "This is Lauren."

Dylan held out his hand and she shook it. "Welcome aboard the Andromeda Ascendant." 

"I asked her to take a look at Harper." Beka added. 

*******

Harper watched Trance through the doorway of the IC bay, his view distorted ever so slightly by the faint glittering of the force grid. His heart was almost too heavy to feel joy at what he saw…but he felt a faint trickle of fondness and warmth as she tended his younger self. It had been a long time since he'd seen her caring for anyone. Centuries of time… and before then…it had been him caring for her as the Night slowly ate at her then mortal self.

He shuddered at the memory and pushed it away. He heard voices and recognised Beka's and… 

__

Oh my God…

Lauren walked into the main medical room in a long rose coloured dress, looking so young and fresh and…_alive_…he almost didn't recognise her.

"He should be locked in a cell." Tyr snapped as soon as he saw the older Harper standing at the back of the med bay. Beka's eyes flashed in anger when she saw him too.

Those words snapped him out of the shock and Harper smiled. "And good morning to you."

Trance came to the doorway of the IC room at the sound of their voices; "he's contained."

And to show them, Harper put up a hand to the force grid between him and the rest of the bay and tapped it. Skitters of electricity sparkled around his finger. All the while he didn't take his eyes from Lauren and he could see the way his attention was not lost on Beka.

"Trance," Beka said, "this is Lauren. She's a doc."

Lauren waited to be introduced to the man behind the force grid but everyone pointedly ignored him. She found herself meeting his gaze, wondering what such a tired, wearied man had done to confine him this way. And in a medical bay… 

She would have to walk along the field to get to the entrance to the IC bay where the crew's purple nurse was standing. It was obvious that this crewman Beka had asked her to check was in there and as she started towards the room, she felt the man's eyes on her. Oddly, though, she realised her skin did not crawl at the attention. When she stepped in and went to the bed to look at the readings on the scanner above his head, the mystery deepened. The man in the bed was a dead-ringer for the one outside. 

Beka came up beside her, "well?"

And she pushed aside her curiosity to study the readings on the medical scanner. Satisfied, she checked the wound, the scar tissue and the dressings. Then she felt his forehead and looked at his temperature readings. It registered normal but she picked up an old fashioned thermometer from the bedside and popped it in his armpit to take his temperature herself, just to be sure.

"There's no fever…yet." Trance told her, the tiniest catch in her voice.

"Yeah, I just like to be sure." She frowned, "what do you mean? Yet?" And she picked up the prescription chart. "You've got him on IB's so there shouldn't be a problem."

"No. But Harper's immune system's kinda poor and he's got a cold so..."

"Mudfoot, huh?"

Trance nodded.

"Have you tried Kephin?" Lauren went to the medicine store and looked in, searching for a certain bottle. "Usually it's prescribed to kids but there was this research I was reading about where they gave it to adults with compromised immune systems. There was a significant reduction in the number of infections among those who were given the drug and their general wellbeing was improved almost 70%." She grabbed a small bottle from the cooler; "this is it." She handed it to Trance. "I'm surprised you haven't heard about it, it was in all the major medical journals."

"Oh… well, I…I'm not a real doctor…exactly. I just know some stuff."

Disapproval filled her voice. "This is your hobby?"

"Um…no…I mean I…we don't have anyone else."

Outside, Harper was smiling. He had missed that…the sparks between Laurie and Trance. From day one Trance and Lauren had had this rivalry. This wasn't how their first meeting had occurred, but it seemed this reality would be no different when it came to these two.

And at the thought of their original meeting down on the planet… both of them striving to convince him that _their_ cold remedy worked best, it warped and was snatched way.

Harper chuckled darkly. It was working… He was changing the past. 

****

******

President Go'Mek was waiting at the port. As Dylan and the Viv-En-Tor departed the transport, Go'Mek stepped forward and greeted them warmly, taking Kelly's hand as a father would take his daughters and holding the other out to Dylan.

"Welcome to our world, captain."

****

******

Trance left Lauren to re-dress Harper's wound; she didn't like being in the same room as this woman. Seeing her…_knowing _her…and knowing what her future was to be. That last was not an unusual feeling for her…but to know in such detail…such intimacy…

She shuddered, trying to rid her stomach of the sickness that had grown there when the other Harper had told her that he and Lauren had…

"Who gave you clearance to release the prisoner?"

Tyr glared at her as soon as she'd stepped back into the main medical bay. "He…" he indicated Harper, "…is supposed to be in the brig."

Her tail swished nervously behind her, knowing there was really no rationalisation for her actions beyond her own desire not to be overheard or interrupted.

But Tyr didn't wait for an answer as he let down the force grid and gripped Harper's arm. He began to walk him firmly towards the exit.

Trance looked back into the bay and bit her lip. Then she hurried to catch them up.

******

Lauren finished applying an herbal balm to the tender newly healed tissues on the young man's belly. She was surprised to hear him groan. She looked up and saw his eyelids flicker and open.

"Hey…" he murmured sleepily.

"Hey yourself." She replied, smiling and checked that the Kephin she'd added to his IV line was disappearing. It was. "You should be feeling better soon."

"Can't hardly wait." He licked his lips, obviously fighting off sleep. "Wha…what's…ya name?"

She smiled, "Lauren."

He tried to smile to but it came off all crocked and limp. "You're so pretty."

She blushed, "and you're on drugs. That kind of kills the flattery."

Harper chuckled weakly, drifting off again.

From the other side of the bed, Beka watched in interplay between the two and felt a cold chill run through her, like a thousand people had just walked over her grave…

******

Tyr had left them alone as soon as he had tossed Harper back into the brig. The older version of the engineer had protested that he could 'get claustrophobia stuck in here.' But the Nietzschean ignored him and went to the control terminal. His lean fingers tapped a little dance on the pad, cancelling Trance's clearance.

There was no way Harper was getting out of there again without his say so.

"What are we gonna do now?" Trance asked as soon as Tyr had gone. "How are we going to change anything if you're in there?"

"Dylan'll get me out."

"How can you be so sure?"

"In the original history, the power generators on the planet developed a glitch; lights out, civilisation grinding to a halt…that sorta thing, all over the northern most continent. The Viv-En-Tor ceremony couldn't go ahead, it being pitch black and all, so the president, Go…Go West? Whatever, he went to Dylan for help. I had to jack into the mainframe to restore power. The Prez was so grateful he practically got down on his knees and begged Dylan to let Tellan join the Commonwealth."

"But…"

"The 'here' me can't. But I can."

Trance thought of the younger Harper laying in IC. If he had died, like this Harper had intended, what changes would have occurred then? 

__

Changes….

Did she really want to go through with this? Was one man's future worth so much? This man's…? And what of hers? Was _her _future just as important? 

What right did they have to decide that the timeline must be changed just because _their f_utures weren't so bright?

Two beings happiness weighed against the rest of the Universe?

Was she capable of such selfishness?

Was Harper?

"Tell me the rest." She murmured. "Everything…"

"Trance…if we change this…. What I tell you will be worth nothing. And if we don't…knowing too much about our own destinies…"

"I want to know." She told him, her voice rising in anger. "I've gotta know what we're doing is right!" She looked down, as sorrow took over. "And I want to…to know about the Night…. please…?"

He sighed. "OK…"


	10. Ten - Forward/Back III

Ten ~ Forward/Back III ****

Ten ~ Forward/Back III

Four years forward…

Trance knew where he had gone. There was only one place… She didn't hate him for leaving. It wasn't every day you hear your best friend speak of her own death. She'd explained it to him, softly and clearly, unsure he was listening. He had the Gift now and when it left her, she returned to being mortal…

For the first time in two centuries, Trance would age. And eventually, one day, she would die.

She had waited for him to say something but no words came. And when she touched his arm, he flinched so slightly she almost missed it.

"I…I gotta go." He'd muttered eventually, "tired."

And she hadn't stopped him, knowing he needed time…needed space to think. She knew where he would go to do it.

Dylan and Beka's graves….

The sun was just rising above the trees, and his body cast a long shadow across the grass. 

She watched him standing there for a long while before she approached. "Hey…" she said quietly.

Harper turned and she saw her own fear and dread in his eyes. As she gazed into the blue she felt she was being dragged down, drowning in the pain she saw there. Something splashed against her lips and for a brief moment in time, she thought it was tears. But then she tasted the little droplet and found it was not salty.

Trance broke the connection and stared up at the sky. Rain had begun to fall heavily; the pair had been so caught up in their pain and in each other that they had not noticed the thick clouds forming overhead.

Harper took Trance's hand and started running for the trees. Neither of them had worn coats and by the time they ducked under the huge canopy of the largest tree, they were both soaked to the skin.

The ground beneath the tree was dry and only the odd drop of rain dripped from the leaves above. They settled down and rested against the trunk to wait out the rain.

No one spoke for a long while, the only sound the pattering of drops on the ground and the roar of the rain hitting the leafy canopy overhead.

It was beautiful and restful and the whole world narrowed to just this moment in time and the glorious sound of rainfall.

A long time passed and then…

"You can't die, Trance…"

The girl turned to the young man at her side, his voice had been a bare whisper and she had only heard him at all because they sat so close together.

"Harper, when I gave you the Gift…" She pulled her knees up to her chin and hugged them, "I'm mortal now…I…I thought you…you understood that."

Harper closed his eyes, feeling cold and empty and so very, very tired. He did understand it, instinctively, unconsciously; he felt he could understand many things given time. Whatever she'd given him was changing things. Everything was different. 

And he could see another difference… in her face, in her whole being… she was paler, less…less _luminous…_

He had it now. But he was still Harper, nothing luminous about him...nothing special.

"But I…" _can't loose you…_ He finished silently.

Trance watched the tears forming in his eyes and when one broke free of his lashes and rolled down his cheek, she reached out and brushed it away. "I still have the rest of my life span." She whispered, "nearly a centuries worth."

Only a week ago, Seamus Harper would have thought that ample enough time for living, but now… Now anything short of forever was not enough.

"And then what?" He asked bitterly. "How can I…" _live without you_… "Go on…alone?"

"You will. You will be…a great Eternal."

"I never wanted that, Trance."

She shivered, "no-one does. But it was meant to be."

"How can ya be so sure?"

Tears ran down her cheeks, belying her words. And he knew that she _wasn't _sure; would _never_ be sure. "You weren't meant to die, Harper."

"Why?" He asked sharply, "what makes me so special? What makes _my_ life worth more than Dylan's? Beka's…. _Rev's!_ We all sat and watched him die, remember?" The memory rose up before his eyes and he felt sick, "hours and hours… I didn't see you get you're bracelet out for him!"

He heard the crack of her hand across his cheek a split second before the pain bit. Trance stared at him, momentarily shocked by what she'd done and then she ran, out into the pouring rain, as fast as her legs could take her.

__

"Trance!"

He sped after her, but he could barely see her through all this rain, her figure was nothing more than a blur, quickly vanishing.

"Trance!"

But he could see nothing now, not even the dark shadow he had been chasing before. He sank to his knees, soaked to the skin and utterly exhausted. Rivers of water poured down his face and he couldn't be sure if they came from the rain…

Or his hot bitter tears.

******

He found her by the graves sometime later when the rain had eased to light drizzle. Trance stood staring at the headstones of her former captains and as he came closer he could hear her talking.

"…. Done this before. My race has no concept of an afterlife, so we don't talk to our dead. But I like that you do. It's nice…and I really need to…" She choked on her tears and Harper almost crossed the distance between them to offer her comfort, but he held back, unsure of her reaction. "Harper's right…I could've help Rev. And you… But it's not that simple."

"They know that." 

Trance turned at his voice and for a moment he was afraid she'd run from him again. But she stayed where she was and watched him come towards her.

"I'm sorry." He said, when he reached her side, "it wasn't fair, what I said. I know you did everythin' ya could."

She nodded, not meeting his eyes; she had forgiven him, but not herself.

"I just…I just wanna know why." He murmured, "why me?"

"I didn't want you to die."

"You keep sayin' that and it's not an answer." 

She turned away and he lay a hand on her shoulder to stop her from leaving him.

"What makes my death important?"

"Because…" she shrunk from his touch, " because… I love you…"

And she turned around and began walking away.

******

Trance stepped backwards, putting distance between her and Harper. "You're…you're lying…"

He shook his head, "no."

"I wouldn't… You're lying. You're a liar!"

He reached out to touch her and the force grid hissed and skittered, shocking his fingers. Desperation was clear in his eyes, "I could never lie to you, Trance! You know that!"

She crossed her arms and hugged herself. "I know." She whispered.

******

He followed her to the tree they had sheltered under, his mind still reeling from what she had said. He wasn't completely aware of sitting down at her side. She ignored him and he sensed that now was not the time to talk about her confession. She wasn't ready.

He wasn't ready…

But the time was coming…and soon.

He looked across at her. "What'da we do now?"

She pressed her face into her knees, unable to face him.

And he realised his question was being misinterpreted, "I mean, d'ya wanna leave?"

A long moment passed before she raised her head to look at him, "and go where?"

"Does it matter?" The note of anger in his voice surprised him and hurt flickered in Trance's eyes. He was about to apologise when the flicker vanished as if it had never been there. 

"The rain's stopped." She said quietly, getting to her feet. "We should go."

******

Harper and Trance left that night taking the very next shuttle that docked, not even knowing its destination. And they didn't tell anyone they were going, not even Lauren.

He never said goodbye…. Months and years and eventually centuries would pass and he had never stopped regretting that. Another regret on a list as long as his life would be. 

Their room on the Ri-Tarni transport was small and cramped and they were forced to share with eight others. Maybe it was that lack of privacy that stopped them from talking about everything that had happened over the past several days, or maybe it was the enormity of it all that stopped them, but things went unresolved between them. And after a while, the subject was too awkward to broach.

They took the two bunks at the very back, right next to the fan heaters, sacrificing the excessive heat for some amount of privacy. At least, it was a sacrifice for Harper, Trance preferred the air to be warmer than humans did and she seemed to like the heat.

The first night felt unreal, like something that was happening to other people and not them. As the other's in the room drifted off to sleep and a quiet fell, the realisation of where they were and what had happened began to sink in.

Harper heard Trance toss and turn in the bunk below his. She groaned softly in frustration and kicked at the covers, unable to get comfortable on the lumpy bed and disturbed by her mind, which would not shut off.

Harper listened to her sighs and finally slipped from his bunk and sat on the edge of hers, next to her.

"I'm so tired." She told him.

"I know."

"I didn't wake you?"

He brushed the hair from her brow, smiling at its mussed appearance. "I wasn't asleep."

"I just want to sleep…"

"Close your eyes…" he whispered_. If only it were that simple…_

But she followed his advice and wriggled back into the bunk, leaving room for him to lie as well. He smiled slightly as he relaxed back, feeling her head rest upon his shoulder as she had many times before. But this was different…warmer, needier…more intimate…

And somewhere in there, he must have fallen asleep. When he opened his eyes, the other travellers had all gone to the mess room for breakfast and he and Trance were alone.

He felt her hand in his and saw their fingers were entwined.

__

Because I love you…

Her words echoed in his mind, and each time he heard them the shock lessened a little bit and a strange ache in his heart was replacing it. 

He tightened his arm around her and pressed his lips to her brow. "I love you too, Trance." He whispered.

But the girl continued to sleep and did not hear him.

******

Trances slept all day and through the next night, waking the following morning looking pale and drawn but her eyes were more alive than he'd seen them in a long while.

Harper brought her breakfast when she woke. She smiled when she saw the tray of simple food that he was carrying and was about to tease him for doing so when she saw the embarrassed flush that crept across his cheeks when he gave her the tray.

Surprised, she thanked him and he went to have a shower.

It was on the fifth night on the shuttle that the dreams came. No, not dreams, for there were no actual images to accompany the…_something._ It wasn't a voice, although it spoke words he could understand. And it never came the same way dreams did. It seemed to loom out at him in his deepest sleep, rousing him, denying him rest.

And it always 'said' the same thing… **"You are of us, Harper…"**

******

Harper jolted awake. The bright florescence of the room's lights hurt his eyes the moment they snapped open. He had fallen asleep during the day again. And dreamed…

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bunk, looking down at the bed below his to watch Trance sleep. He guessed she knew about his dreams and what they were. When she'd first seen him awake in alarm, something had crossed her features that he couldn't comprehend.

Fear, maybe, or despair? He didn't know.

But with that same quick unconscious intuition he knew the dreams were part of what they were running from.

It had been unspoken, even ignored, gone unacknowledged, but this…this whatever it was… they would be together through it.

But together as what? 

Friends? More than that? 

They spent their days among the other travellers, rarely having more than ten minutes alone, never being able to say what needed to be said.

He slipped off his bunk and knelt beside Trance's. He reached out and stroked her hair, letting the smooth silkiness slide under his hand. His lips pursed to speak three little words in the safe knowledge she would not hear them…

And then he pulled back, shocked.

The heat and the tension he felt…so familiar…so delicious…

Love was one thing…. And he could barely cope with the ramifications of that. This was another… A whole 'nother ball game he just didn't wanna even _think_ about playing right now.

He climbed back into his own bed, pulled the covers up to his chin and tried to sleep….

******

There was only one bed. Harper found it highly typical of himself and his sub-conscious that the first thing it would notice was that. Not the dirty walls, not the shabby furniture or the flea-bitten rug covering the metal decking on the floor, but the bed.

The large, surprisingly comfortable looking but very noticeably _two person_ bed.

"Needs a bitva clean, I know," the bar owner snorted, "but you'll do far worse here."

"A bit!" Harper pulled his eyes away from that bed; "there's less dirt out there than there is in here."

"Your welcome to sleep out there then." He replied unsympathetically, "take it or leave it, there's plenty more that'd be grateful for it."

"We'll take it." Trance told him.

The bar owner nodded, "aye. Shift starts in two hours, mind you don't be late."

"Trance, I can't believe you agreed to this."

"It's a start." And she began to hunt for rags to begin cleaning.

"It's filthy!"

She pulled out a handful of washcloths, "so we'll clean it."

"And it's probably infested with god-knows-what."

"We can buy a repellent."

"And there's no light fittings in here."

"I like candles." And she held out a rag and a bucket. 

"And…and…."

"And what?"

__

And there's only one bed! But he bit his tongue and held the words in. Harper sighed in defeat and grabbed the cloth and filled the bucket with water. 

This wasn't what Harper had in mind when they left, not that they _had_ anything in mind when they left. But they knew this wasn't it. After three weeks, the ship had docked at the Gillor station and they had decided to stay and find some sort of employment. They didn't have much idea of where and what they wanted to do, but when they did, they would need money to do it.

The bar they ended up in had an advert in the window for staff. It paid terribly but it would also provide them with a roof over their heads.

And only one bed…

******

Harper had once worked behind a bar, mixing drinks by night and getting drunk by day. That had been on Earth, when he was seventeen, scraping money together for his ticket off the planet. His then newly discovered love of alcohol and the ease of its availability to him as a barman had hampered his efforts. If he hadn't have drunk his way through over half of his wages every week, he'd have been off of Earth months before he eventually left.

And his life would have probably gone very differently.

But, much as he hated his memories of that time, they stood him in good stead for working in the bar. The owner, John Bail, was obviously impressed. Something that took a lot of doing as the man didn't seem to be impressed by any of his workers that didn't wear a dress.

And Trance had had something of a heart attack when she'd seen that dress. 

So had he, but for an entirely different reason. _Only one bed…. Oh, man…_

'The Bailey's' waitresses wore very little. Less than very little. Their dresses consisted of a piece of gauzy fabric crossed at the front and back and ended with a little skirt. It revealed enough to be indecent but covered enough not to break any nudity laws.

Harper's mouth had dropped open when he saw it and he'd waited for her to chuck the dress back at Bail and storm out. But she didn't. When she'd regained her composure, she'd smiled a very tense, false smile and disappeared into the changing area. When she came out, Harper thanked the Divine that he was standing behind the bar and no one could see below his waist.

Their first night's work left them exhausted and when they entered the little flat, Harper had almost forgotten about the bed.

Almost…

Trance went into the bathroom to change into nightwear while Harper fixed them both some hot chocolate. She came out, took her drink and they talked about their work as they sipped the chocolate. Then Trance got up and went to the bed…and noticed.

Harper waited, hiding his smirk.

Or rather didn't notice… 

The girl said nothing, climbed into the left side and closed her eyes.

Harper swallowed the last of his chocolate and decided the chair didn't look so uncomfortable after all.

He was so tired he fell asleep almost straight away…and the dream came again. This time the 'words' were incoherent, a buzzing, mumbling noise that enveloped him. He floated sickly amid the non-dream, floundering in the non-sounds, until his 'self' fell headlong into REM sleep and glorious sounds and images played out.

When he awoke, he felt as if he had not slept at all… 

******

The following night, they shared the bed. They had lain together on so many nights in the past that he knew there was no real difference. Except….

__

I love you… she'd admitted. the words dragged from her very soul unwillingly. 

And he felt that now…. her love. Could feel his own too.

But it had left this terrible stalemate, where the knowledge hung over them, untouched and unresolved. Logically, the next move was his. 

But too much had happened in their lives, and between them, for him to just say _'I love you'_ back.

Life just wasn't that simple.

__

Love just wasn't that simple.

Nothing worth so much was ever simple.

And Trance was worth more than anything in the Universe was...

But he didn't want the status quo to change, because change was scary and they'd had enough scary things to last a lifetime already. And he didn't want that terrible sick vulnerability that comes from loving somebody. From accepting that their very _living,_ their happiness was the delicate fulcrum on which everything you knew balanced on. 

And the slightest thing could damage that balance and the world would turn to shit around you. And when it was over, done and finished with, everything would have changed so much that there would be no going back.

Just forward…and alone…

Trance deserved more than that sad, maybe a little selfish, troubled view on love. For that was all he had to offer her. There was nothing else.

But his feelings for her ran far deeper than any he'd ever experienced in his life. He had never wanted anything so badly than to show her how much he loved her. Too lose himself in her.

But that way would lead to losing her…being hurt by her…so he held back and never spoke.

So Trance did…

******

Harper opened his eyes and the non-dream faded. There was a shadow over him and he realised it was Trance, watching him, waiting for him to wake. She sat cross-legged on her side of the bed with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

"Trance?"

"They're calling you, aren't they?"

He sat up, nodding. He had had his suspicions and her words confirmed them. "Yeah."

"I was hoping…" she began but never finished, pulling the blanket even tighter around herself. 

"What?"

"I was hoping that being human, you wouldn't hear them."

He looked at her questioningly.

"No human has ever become an Eternal. Your species is too…." An embarrassed little smile curled her lips upwards, "…too closed off from the Universe."

"The Strings?"

"You'll learn to read them one day. They will teach you."

Harper shook his head. "Not gonna happen. They can knock all they want, I ain't answerin' the door."

"You will…You have too. When I'm…" she looked away, "…when I'm gone."

"Trance-"

She faced him, the quiet determination in her eyes stopping his words. "What are we, Har…Seamus?"

The sudden change of topic and her use of his given name surprised him and he shrugged, "people. Eternals, whatever."

"I mean to each other." 

Harper sighed. In all the years they'd been friends, there had never been this awkwardness and even thought there was no bad feelings, it didn't feel like there was any good.

"I don't know." He admitted, "only know that things are not OK between us."

She turned away. "Are we friends?"

"Of course we are, that's not…not even a question."

She looked around, meeting his eyes, maybe a little confused.... Maybe not, he couldn't tell anymore. "Isn't it?" She asked. "I don't know what's happening anymore! There's this…this…"

"Whole big unresolved whatever ya wanna call it." He supplied.

"Yes…" Tears threatened in her eyes, "I told you that I…" _love you…_ but she stopped herself in time. "…Something I wish I hadn't. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Shouldn't have…it was mean and it was blackmail."

He shook his head, "no. No, I asked. I wanted to know."

"But…but you just don't go around telling people things like that. It hurts them, and it does this…this whatever it is…to…" She trailed off before she could get to the last word… 'Us.'

"I'm glad you told me."

She met his eyes. "Why?"

He shivered, "don't make me say it."

"Why not? I want…" _I want to hear it so much…_ The unspoken words hung in the air.

"Because we can't go there."

She turned completely away from him and pulled the blanket up to her chin. He could only see her back, see the tiny jerks her body made…heard to soft sounds of her tears. He dug his fingernails into the soft flesh of his arms, clamping down so hard he felt the dampness of blood ooze out. He wanted so much to hold her, soothe her tears…but he couldn't.

She was going to die and he was not…

"Trance…"

Her only answer was a stifled sob. "I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to stop her traitorous tears, "I'm not being fair…" 

He reached out to touch her, but managed to stop his hand half way. "I-I left with you…when you asked." He murmured, "y'know I tried ta tell myself I didn't know why."

She looked around, her eyes red but hopeful. 

He hated himself for the hurt he'd caused her. "But I did it because you asked me too."

"So…?" Anger filled her voice and the hope left her eyes, "so this is my fault?"

"No…no. It's not even about that. Trance…took me a while to think of this but…I went with you because…because I don't wanna be _without _you. And if we do this…they'll be a time when I will be without you…and I just can't, Trance…I _can't_…"

"And we can't go on like this…" She wept, "because you'll lose me anyway. I can't be with you and **_not be_** with you."

"I do want that…but…"

"Then show me…" She murmured, reaching out to take his hand and let it lay in hers. She studied the bloody nails. She looked at the marks they'd made on his arm and leaned down. He tensed and pulled back when he felt her tongue taste the little red half moons. 

"What the…?"

"Trust me…" She whispered and leant forward again, brushing her temple against his. She closed her eyes, knowing that words could not fight…but actions could. The warmth and feel of her skin against his; the radiating heat…

He felt his own blood responded. That delicious tension in his body grew and he pulled away, "I…I…" But the 'can't' never came and he found himself leaning closer to her, regaining that gentle touch of their heads. She curled in a little, and smiled when one tentative hand circled her waist. 

More confident now, his body leading, he moved his head to the side, brushing her lips against his. She tensed, obviously unfamiliar with this human expressionism. He knew she'd watched a kiss before, but seeing and doing is two very different things. Her lips moved awkwardly against his and he stilled his own to let her take over. She broke the kiss with a frown, unsure, but saw the doubt in Harper's eyes and kissed him again before he could say anything more. 

She copied the movement of his mouth on hers and a thrill ran through her at the little intake of breath he made. 

Harper's mind raced but the heavy sensation of arousal was fast taking over. He let his tongue just touch her lips then graze the space between them. She flinched a little at the sensation but relaxed into a moment later, offering him her own tongue. She tasted different…very different. But in a good way…

She ran her hands up his sides and caressed his back, curling her tail around his waist. He pulled back at the feel of it, surprised at its intrusion. But then curious… he let one hand fall from her hips and ran his fingers along it, amazed at the softness of the skin there. She smiled and kissed him, her tongue now confident in its exploration of his mouth. She moaned into his lips as his hand slipped all the way from the tip of her tail to the base. His mouth left hers and kissed down her chin, down her neck and along her jaw until his lips brushed below the lobe of her ear.

She whimpered at the sensation, the gentle tugging at the skin around one of her races' most sensitive areas.

Smiling, Harper repeated the kiss, harder this time and was rewarded by her writhing…writhing against his body. He wondered briefly if she'd ever felt a human male like this before, whether her species had such things. 

A chuckle escaped him, it would be on par with the Universe irony if, having got this far, he and Trance were to discover they didn't fit…

That they weren't…_compatible_…

She looked at him in hurt surprise, wondering if he was laughing at her. He claimed her mouth before she could speak and rolled her over. They were so closely pressed together that there would be no mistaking what she would feel. She didn't jerk back in horror but curled her legs around his, the movement pushing them ever closer to each other. The sensation made him groan.

"Trance…we shouldn't…."

"Show me…" She whispered, kissing him again, "show me what you can't say, Seamus…"

*******

__

Her mouth hung open and the startled look in her eyes made him smile. "What…" Her throat sounded dry and horse. "Um…"

He shrugged, "we were compatible."

*******

They lay curled together, sleepily caressing each other's fingers. Harper moved his head a little and gently kissed her brow. He had never known such peace before. Nothing…_no one…_had ever given him such contentment.

And it was all because of Trance.

"I love you." She whispered, knowing he would never say them back.

His hand moved up to cup her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I know." He murmured.


	11. Eleven - Forward/Back IV

Eleven ~ Forward/Back IV ****

Eleven ~ Forward/Back IV

****

Another Year Forward…

They were in the bar, during the afternoon shift, the quietest part of the day. Someone had put the vid-cast screen on to fill the long boring hours before the bar started to get busy, but Harper ignored it. He stopped watching the newscasts long ago. It had hurt too much to see yet another Commonwealth territory fall and hear of another Ilittion triumph. There was nothing he or Trance could do.

And right now, his attention was elsewhere…

He was watching Trance, cleaning tables in her teeny tiny dress, her tail slowly moving back and forth in time with the music playing on the old-fashioned jukebox. He thought of nibbling on her beautiful, sensitive up-swept ears, tracing her sweet curves with his fingers and stroking her long silken tail… He thought of human sex and 'Gemini' sex and knew that he was the luckiest bastard in the Galaxies right now.

Trance turned around, giving him an admonishing look. She could read him so well. He winked at her and was rewarded with a faint flush appearing under the purple of her cheeks. She came towards him, under the pretence of giving him a tray of glasses to wash, but he could see by the curling of her tail behind her that she was aroused. He smiled to himself, wondering if they could get away with being 'naughty' again. They were almost caught out the last time. For such a sweet, innocent looking girl, Trance had a very…

Her tail dropped suddenly and the seductive smile was replaced with shock. 

"Trance?"

She pointed at the vid-cast behind him and he turned. There on the screen, accepting some sort of accolade, was Tyr Anasazi…

Very much alive…

******

The dreams diminished after time as his sub-conscious learned to ignore the messages that came to him. And eventually he all but forgot about the Gift and the Eternals, with the passing of time and the content, happy lives he and Trance shared, everything that had come before faded into the background. 

They had tried to find Tyr after that day in the bar but the Universe was a big place, and finding one ship, one _person _amid it all was akin to seeking a needle in a haystack…. No, a whole field of haystacks. Eventually, their efforts died down to the occasional burst of energy, but when those were met every time with utter failure to find even a lead or anything positive, they became less and less frequent. Until, finally they stopped.

And with a sense of ugly humour that only the Universe could muster, when they stopped looking, Tyr Anasazi walked into their lives…

******

****

Two Years Later….

When the Bailey went out of business, they'd wandered for a while, living off the money that they had saved over the years. But when that ran out, they found more bar work on a small moon on the rim of the Tulla systems. 

The main town, Hillforth, was large and peopled by mainly human settlers. Trance had stood out like a sore thumb from day one. Harper would have preferred they leave, but, with the wonderful spark and presence that he loved about her, she refused. '_I have just as much right to be here as they do,_' she'd said, ignoring the stares and the whispers.

One of the more enterprising bar owners even saw Trance as an interesting way to attract customers and offered them extra money if they worked for him. Trance had accepted, Harper had hated it. _'He just wants everyone starin' at ya.' _ He had argued. _'They're already staring,'_ she pointed out, _'we might as well be paid for it.'_

So they took the job, but Harper knew they'd be trouble.

And there was….

And he wasn't around to stop it.

******

"Hey. Tail girl!" 

Trance jumped at the harsh sound of the drunk's voice as she made her way through the bar. The man staggering towards her was large, his bulk coming mostly from fat rather than muscle. Despite his inebriation, he was still alert and very able to use his size against her if he chose too. She looked around, nervously; hoping someone would help if she needed it. 

The rest of the patrons looked away.

Harper hadn't wanted her working this extra shift alone. She wished she'd listened to him. There had been rumours flying around about her and Harper's relationship since they'd arrived and mutterings of disapproval. But like most bigots, they were spineless and preferred to whisper and point, rather than make a stand.

Interspecies relationships were not uncommon, but since few were long lasting they were mainly seen as a joke. The number of differences between two aliens, both cultural and biological, were often to great for any partnership to withstand. At the most, such couples were seen to be just curious, if not a bit kinky. And those that did make it work; their future was not idyllic. Interbreeding was near impossible, and on the rare occasions it had happened the resulting child had either been born dead, died soon after or if they managed to survive to adulthood, they were sickly and barren.

She and Harper had not spoken of the future, he always closed up on her when she brought the subject up, but it was something she wanted to talk about.

Another drunk stumbled over.

"Yeah. Purple thing, keep ta yer own kind!"

"Whatever that is!" The first one replied to much laughter.

A couple of his drunker, nastier friends joined him and they began following Trance around the bar as she worked, flicking at her tail when they got the chance. The bar keep warned them off at first, but since they weren't actually threatening Trance there wasn't much he could do. Besides which, there was only one of him and four of the men and he wasn't a brave man by any means. 

"Its disgustin' that's what it is." One man spat.

"Oughta be some law against it." Another agreed and grabbed her tail. She yelled as much from anger as pain when he pulled hard on it. 

"Don't touch me!" She cried and tried to push him away. 

The first man grabbed her wrists. "Feisty." He leered. 

She kicked out, panic rising in her chest and she looked frantically around for help. The old and mainly male crowd watching refused to meet her eyes; they would not offer her any protection.

One of the men slid his hands down her tail, "mmm, can see what he finds in her."

"NO!"

His fingers brushed the sensitive base, near her rear, and she shuddered in disgust, shrinking backwards. His touch…_there_…had been her species equivalent of a human woman's breasts being fondled against her will.

"Put her down!" The bar keep demanded, as forcefully as he could be, which wasn't much.

"S'only a bitva fun."

"Not to her, now _put her DOWN_!"

The tallest of the men sent him flying across the bar. The other's laughed.

"Time to share, I think." And they began to drag her towards the back exit. Trance kicked and twisted, but she was only able to break free of one of them at a time, and all four were holding her. She yelled at the patrons in the bar, but they turned away, pretending not to see.

"Please!" She sobbed and felt one of her captors stiffen and fall. Another was grabbed away, and thudded against the wall, blood pouring from his head. The other two let her go and ran.

Someone knelt at her side. "Are you all right?"

She looked up into the face of her saviour, recognising the voice… "TYR!"

And she burst into a stream of fresh tears and buried her face in his chest.

******

Tyr helped her back to the little room she and Harper called home. He took the lock-card from her and let her in. The interior was dark, lit only with candles. A faint odour of cooking hung in the air.

"Seamus?" She called her voice shaky.

Harper came out of the kitchen and saw two shocking things at the same time. The state Trance was in, and Tyr…

But the latter was of little consequence. "Trance!" He pulled her into his embrace, "what-what happened?"

"The-the…" was all she could manage.

"That rabble in the bar, they attacked her." Tyr finished for her, taking a blanket from the sofa and draped it around her shoulders as she sat down. 

"Oh my God, they…" Harper quickly checked her over, "they didn't hurt you, did they?"

She shook her head, "no, Tyr…Tyr stopped them."

"I should've been there."

"You couldn't have known."

He looked up, "Tyr…thank…" He held out his hand, "thank you." His tone and his face held the gratitude his words could not portray. "And I can't believe it."

Tyr nodded, his dark eyes unrevealing, but Harper pulled him into a quick hug. Tyr went stiff, then offered a faint half hug of his own.

Harper pulled back and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you. If you hadn'ta been there…" 

The Nietzschean looked awkward. "Do you have any whiskey? Or tea perhaps? She could use some."

Harper pointed to a cabinet and Tyr went to pour Trance a small measure. 

Harper sat beside Trance and pulled her to him. "That's it, we're leavin'."

Trance shook her head, still in shock. "And go where?"

"We'll find something."

"My ship." Tyr said holding out the whiskey. "We can take you wherever you wish to go."

******

The _Roark_ was a beauty. Tyr's Pride had been prosperous in the three years they'd been away. Harper stared open mouthed at the sheer size of the landing bay, dropping their bags down in awe. It was even bigger than the Andromeda.

Tyr's third wife, Rella, stepped forward, warmly. She was tall and statuesque and very, very pregnant.

"Welcome!" She said, "I am honoured to finally meet you."

"Tyr told you about us?" Trance asked.

Her lips twisted, teasingly. "Most fondly."

Harper looked at the Nietzschean, "fondly? Of me? Tyr I didn't know you cared!"

Tyr's sharp response died beneath loud joyous cries.

"Seamus! Trance!"

The pair turned in shock, recognising the voice. "Lauren?"

The doctor flung herself into their arms and hugged tightly. "I couldn't believe it when I heard. But...but…look at ya!" She squeezed even tighter. "I was so worried! I didn't…. I didn't know what to think." Her anger caught up with her joy, "how the hell could you do that?"

"I'm sorry," Harper answered, "it was…it was the only thing we could do."

"And you never thought to send me a message?"

"We'll explain, I promise." Trance told her and hugged her again. When she let go of the doctor, Harper unconsciously took her hand in his. When he saw the flicker in Lauren's eyes, he realised what he had done.

"It's a long story." He told her.

They began walking towards the guest quarters, Lauren firing questions at them at double time. Harper looked at Trance nervously, both unsure just how much they should say. "Actually, we're kinda tired, y'know." Harper said, when they reached their room, "maybe tomorrow, huh?"

Lauren smiled, preparing to leave them. "OK. I just…I just can't believe it."

"Yeah, us too."

A Nietzschean woman came walking towards them with a small child at her side, a toddler with light blonde hair and big eyes.

"Mummy?" The child called.

Lauren met Harper's eyes a moment, then she walked over to the girl and picked her up. She turned back to her friends, "I guess we've both got things to talk about tomorrow. Goodnight."

******

Harper turned his head to Trance. After all the excitement and chatter, the girl had finally fallen asleep. He gently disentangled their limbs and slipped from the bed. He glanced back, afraid she would waken and ask him where he was going, but she continued to sleep. He pulled on his shirt and trousers. He hated having to sneak around, but it was the only way.

He crept out of their quarters and headed towards the lifts. He wasn't sure where Lauren's room was, but he guessed that the community was small enough that he could ask the first person he came across.

And of course, given the anti-Harperness of the Universe right now, he shouldn't have been surprised that it was Tyr.

The Nietzschean frowned, his dark eyes showing disapproval, but his voice was even. "Deck 4, CQ 1486."

He found them easily and, drawing a deep breath touched the chime. Lauren opened the door, she was still dressed despite the late hour and he realised she'd been waiting for him. 

"What do you want?" She asked.

Harper sank onto the sofa. "You know."

"Do I?"

"How old is she?" He demanded.

Her eyes were bitter, "how old do you think?" Traces of old pain and anger laced her voice, "she's nearly two and a half."

"Is she…" he took a breath, "…is she mine?"

"_SHE_ is called Charlotte!"

"Lauren…"

"Yes, she's yours."

"Wh…" A thousand questions leapt to mind, but none could get past the lump in the back of his throat and the deep shock that numbed every corner of his soul.

Lauren glared at him, taking his silence for something else. "You can get a gene typing. There's plenty of equipment here, it's a Nietzschean ship."

Harper shook his head. "That's…"

"It's OK. I know it was only the one night, guess I'd wanna bit of proof too."

He got up, "it's not…it's not nessicary. I know you wouldn't lie."

Lauren walked to the window and stared out at the stars. He followed her and came to stand beside her. His mind racing for something to say. 

"She looks like ya."

She turned, "yeah, well she acts like you. Course she's got a reason for acting like she's a two-year-old."

"I'm…I'm sorry. For whatever it's worth."

"Sorry?" She yelled, "sorry for what? Running out like that? Not telling me you were going? Or _where _you were going? Not even having the decency to say goodbye? Or is it sorry that I got pregnant?"

"All of the above. Laurie, I'm not gonna lie to you. This is…this is…a shock…the biggest freakin' shock I ever had and I…" He sighed, "this is not what I wanted. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I didn't know. I woulda been there if I'd've known."

"Yeah, it's easy to say that now."

"Its true!"

"Go back to Trance."

"Laurie…"

"Its late, I'm tired, OK?"

His eyes betrayed his frustration, but he nodded. "Yeah…" And he began towards the door. When he got there, he turned, reluctant to leave. "Can I…can I, y'know, say goodnight to her?"

Something crossed her face. "She's asleep."

"I won't wake her up, I promise. I just…I just wanna look."

She thought for a long moment, then nodded. "OK."

******

__

Trance paled. "You-you have a child?" The face of the woman she'd only just met flickered in her minds eye. "With her?"

"Charlotte is…was so special. You loved her as much as I did."

******

The little girl slept soundly; unaware she was being watched; unaware of the importance to her of the man watching. She slept in an odd position that only little children can manage to look completely comfortable in. She clutched a thread bare cloth elephant to her chest.

Harper felt sick…no, not sick, something akin to sickness in the way it churned his stomach and squeezed his chest. He could see his mother in the baby, and a little of Siobhan. And so very much of Lauren. This was immortality of a very different kind, but in its own way, just as powerful as the Gift he carried.

And now his Gift had meaning, his immortality given purpose. He would see this child grow.

He reached out to stroke her head. Lauren's hand grabbed his wrist in an instant.

"You'll wake her up!" She hissed angrily.

Her rebuke left him shaky, frightened and his hand fell away from hers.

"I'm…I'm sorry."

Lauren's eyes were cold. "You'd better go."

******

The corridors of the _Roark _were empty and darkened, and he wandered aimlessly through them. He didn't want to return to the guest quarters and lie next to Trance. It felt…wrong…somehow. Like he'd betrayed her. 

He found himself in the Observation room. It was dark and warm, with elegant stone artworks and a variety of potted plants. It stretched back as far as the ship's hull and at the back was an enormous floor to ceiling window to space. He stood in front of it and stared into the black. The stars stared back at him, their tiny lights cruel and ugly, hating him.

He was not alone.

A shadow broke from the wall and came to his side. Tyr offered him an almost smile when he stood by Harper. That was the closest the Nietzschean had to a warm greeting. Beka had had the greatest influence on him.

__

Beka…

His heart ached. In many ways he had not had the chance to grieve for her. For any of them. There hadn't been the time, back them.

And now…

Now he was empty. Drained. He'd lost so many people he'd loved in his short life; he was starting to get used to it. And that was so…so ugly…

He realised Tyr was waiting for him to speak, so he said the first thing that came into his head. 

"I like the plants."

Tyr nodded. "They remind me."

"Of what?" Harper laughed, his anger finding release where it could. "That there other stuff in the Universe other than you Nietzschean's?"

Tyr ignored his sharp tone. "Of the Garden on Andromeda."

Harper reached out and touched one of the bushes; it had been a long time since he'd thought to the Hydroponics Garden. "Hawthorns?" He guessed. "In blossom too." He looked up; "Beka's favourite."

"She gave me that the day I left Andromeda."

"I remember." The scene flickered in his mind's eye. Tyr's stoic goodbyes, Beka's fierce eyes and rigid body at the loss of her lover, knowing it was for the greater good. Freya needed her husband back, and Rosa had needed her father.

At the thought, Harper's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Me too." He murmured to himself.

Tyr frowned and Harper realised he'd heard him. He looked up.

"Why d'ya ask Laurie to serve her?" He asked. "Not that I ain't grateful."

"We needed a doctor." Tyr answered.

"Not buying it. All those weird Nietzschean doctoring ideas, lettin' the sick die. Can't see Lauren puttin' up with that. You'd've had less trouble with a Nietzschean doc."

"Perhaps. But I respect her skills." His eyes were shadowed, "and she was pregnant. I owed her and Dylan and…you…a dept of gratitude."

Harper felt ice run down his spine at the word 'you.' "Yeah, well, thanks."

"I seem to be making a habit out of saving your women."

A long silence.

"Yeah…" Harper shrugged, "dunno what I'm gonna tell Trance, y'know."

"The truth." Tyr looked him in the eye. "You are the girl's father, aren't you?"

******

Tyr took him to the Infirmary and introduced him to his fourth wife, Brull. A tall, thin woman with large brown eyes and coffee skin. 

Harper's jaw dropped at the appearance of yet another wife. "How many of 'em have ya got, anyway?"

"Only four. Brull is my last."

"Only…"

Brull went to a terminal. "Laurie said you would come and left me permission to open her daughter's medical file. Give me your arm."

Harper paused, then held out his arm. He watched the nurse take a sample of blood. She inspected the vial a moment before putting it into a slot on the terminal.

"We already have Charlotte Long's DNA on file. She has excellent genetic potential…for a human."

The computer beeped and announced it was finished typing. 

Brull looked at the screen where two helixes turned side by side. Harper leaned over her shoulder and drew a long, steady breath.

And read the words below the helixes.

__

Genetic parenthood confirmed..

A shiver ran through him, was it sadness? He wondered. Anger? Fear at the pain this would cause Trance?

Even maybe a little…relief?

"Congratulations," Tyr muttered, "it's a girl."

******

Harper was half way up the corridor when Tyr fell into step beside him. "I understand."

"Do you?"

"When I learned of Rosa's existence… I had to make a choice." Tyr sighed, "I did what my upbringing, my…beliefs…told me to do. But I have never forgiven myself for the pain it caused Beka."

Harper opened his mouth to offer him some comfort, but the Nietzschean held a hand up to stall him. "But if had to make that choice, I would do it again."

"I don't wanna make a choice. I _can't_ make a choice."

"Then pray you do not have to."

Harper nodded, turning to go. Tyr spoke again.

"We have the supplies we came for. The ship is leaving and you are welcome to chose any destination you wish to go, however…"

Harper looked at him.

"We are in need of a good engineer."

"Another dept?"

"Perhaps. But the last."

******

She was awake when he returned. Sitting up in the bed, her eyes full of caution. She could read him so well. And those blasted Strings had probably given her a glimpse of what might happen here. One among so very many, did she know which one was the right one?

"I couldn't sleep." He told her, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking off his boots. "Went for a walk. Talked to Tyr. Offered me a job. Engineer."

"So you…you think we should stay?"

"I…I can't leave, Trance." He slipped into the bed beside her, their faces so close he could feel her breath on his skin. "I…"

"Can't?"

He took a breath, "Charlotte."

Confusion appeared in her eyes.

"Laurie's daughter."

"Why-" And then realisation. And that was quickly followed by pain. A deep, longing pain.

"You…You're…"

"It was…it was before we left," the words tumbled from his lips and he wasn't even sure she was hearing him properly. "I'm sorry."

Silence.

"Trance?"

"I need…I need to go for a walk."

******

Trance let her legs carry her; not aware of the direction she walked. She just walked. The corridors of the _Roark_ were empty, and she passed only two crewmen in the hours that she wandered. She guessed that dawn was approaching when the lights throughout the ship brightened and the recycled air felt almost sharper, brighter.

"Trance?"

She turned, feeling a cold shiver run up her back. Lauren stood in the doorway of one of the crew quarters. Probably hers, Trance realised dimly. Why had her feet brought her here?

Lauren's eyes were apologetic, her whole expression one of sorrow. But wariness lingered there too, unsure if Trance knew anything, or what her reaction would be if she did.

"Are you…are you looking for Seamus?"

Trance shook her head, but did not speak.

Lauren closed the gap between them, "if you're looking for me, you found me."

Trance shook her head again.

"Trance?"

But the alien refused to look at her.

"I only just got you're friendship back," she told her quietly, "I don't wanna lose it again. I want everything to be the way it was, on Andromeda. You know? Me and you and Beka… remember how we used to get Rommies' avatar drunk and we'd all sit 'round moaning about the guys? I missed that so much, I missed _you _so much! But that..." The words tumbled from her mouth, her voice breathless and desperate, "that _ended _and....and then there was only us, you and me and Harper…but you left!" Anger burned in her eyes. "I hated you for that and then I had Charlotte and I-I stopped… And now there's you and Harper and there's still me… that's all that's left. And I'm not gonna lose that! Not again."

Trance raised her head, and met her eyes. "I don't know what to feel." She whispered. 

Lauren's eyes filled with tears and she took Trance's hand in hers. "I wish I could tell you. But I don't know either. But I know…I know there's someone you oughta meet."

******

The little girl was sitting on the floor amid a pile of stuffed animals. She looked up at her mother, a little afraid and wary of the stranger coming into her home.

Lauren knelt down beside her daughter. "This is Trance." She told her. 

Trance smiled at the child, who stared back at her with tiny version's of her father's eyes. "Hello."

"Hi."

******

He knew he would find her here. Harper wandered through the Observation room, amidst the many plants. This was what would draw her here. It was almost as if the flora could beckon her.

Just as the stars had pulled him to this place and turned their wrath upon him here.

The room was quiet and dark, his eyes searching for the small purple form of Trance.

But he could see nothing.

"I know you're in here." He called out.

A faint sniffle answered him.

He turned towards the noise. Trance was sitting next to Beka's hawthorn, the faint light reflecting from the tears on her cheeks.

He sat down beside her. She met his eyes, expectantly. "I don't know whata say to you." He admitted, "'cept that I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to apologise for."

"Isn't there?"

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes, "no." She kissed his lips, "I have no right to blame you for what you did before."

He smiled at her, "I…"

She kissed him again to stop the words. However much she wanted to hear them, she didn't want it to be under these circumstances.

"But I'm not going to pretend this doesn't hurt." She added and looked him full in the eyes; "I can't give you children."

"That doesn't matter." Then he realised how that might sound, "I mean, even before I knew. I want you, nothin' else matters."

"I know…"

Silence fell again. And then…

"I met her."

"That's one up on me."

More silence. And then the question burned inside him so badly he had to ask it, even if it caused her pain. "Is she…um, is she…?"

"Nice? Yes." She smiled at him; "she's lovely."

"I wish…"

"I know." She took his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Let's go."

"Trance?"

"She needs you."

******

__

Harper smiled, "I was never more proud of ya then, y'know?"

******

The door opened in front of Harper and Trance. Lauren stared at them both, obviously searching for something to say. Trance met Harper's eyes, then she looked at Lauren. Her unspoken question, did they want to be alone, hung in the air. Harper took her hand, stopping her from leaving, and Lauren offered her a smile. 

She was part of this too. She had to be.

It was awkward; it would probably always be awkward. But this wasn't about them. It was about Charlotte. 

The little girl toddled up to them. Harper knelt down, remembering his youngest cousin; Jessica and how important it had been to her to talk on her level instead of being lent over.

"Sweetie, this is Seamus. Mummy told you about him, remember?"

The girl nodded solemnly and Harper wondered if she really did understand. Her future was being made in these moments. And his, and Trance's, even Lauren's.

"Say hello to him," her mother urged.

"Hi."

Harper tried to swallow away the lump in his throat and found he couldn't, "hi, honey."

****

Forward Another Two Years….

The _Roark_ hurtled through the Stream and deep within its hull, Harper tossed in his bed, his mind trapped in another non-dream. A stronger dream than before, pulling him down, sucking him under a tide of non-thoughts and non-images. He was drowning. His consciousness felt something take his…_soul?_

Take him…and hold him down, away from his body. Away from the corporeal world.

****

"The time is now…"

******

"Harper?" Trance shook him, her voice scared at the choking, gasping sound coming from him. "Wake up! _Please!"_

His body jerked once and he sat up. His mouth fell open and words poured from the gapping orifice. It spoke with a hollow tone, in Harper's own voice, but his mouth, lips and tongue did not move to produce the sounds.

****

"You are of us, Harper… You are of us, Harper… You are of us, Harper…"

"Seamus?"

His eyes snapped open and she gasped. His pupils were fully dilated and instead of black, they were yellow. He turned to look at her.

****

"Gemini…" Harper's voice rasped. **"Night…must…fall."**

Trance screamed. 

The Eternals had come for them.


	12. Twelve - Forward/Back V

Author's note – I am so sorry for keeping everyone waiting

Author's note – I am so sorry for keeping everyone waiting. Hopefully the next part won't take so long. 

****

_______________________________________________________________________

Twelve ~ Forward/Back V

Harper…or at least the body that was Harper raised an arm, his hand and fingers dangling down cold and limp. He reached towards her and Trance fought her fear as he touched her cheek.

****

"Gemini…you served us well. Why do you run from your reward?"

"I don't…I don't want the Night…not yet."

****

"It will come. Always it comes. You gave the Gift. You accepted the consequences."

"But I…didn't want…to die."

****

"Do not insult the Light and the Goodness that gave you eternal life by asking more of it!" Anger filled the voice and Harper's fingers tightened on her face. Trance moaned as she felt the tickle of electrical impulses skitter beneath her epidermis. Her skin itched painfully and a raging thirst turned her tongue to stone.

Her eyelids drooped and her head lopped down on her chest only to jerk up again as she fought to stay awake. _No_… she tried to say, but her mouth refused to work.

Tension suddenly ebbed from her body and she flopped down, her limbs heavy.

And she slept…

******

Brull saw a flicker of movement in the shadows, a sudden dark patch in her peripheral vision. She looked up from the medical scanners, frowning. She scanned the area with her eyes and her breath hitched in surprise when she saw them.

It was the male human. His purple mate slumped unconscious in his arms, her neck was bent backwards and her head hung limply. But what shocked her were Harper's eyes, blank and cold and staring. It was if he were sleepwalking.

An icy fear ran down her back. She had not approved of her husbands' choice to allow these inferior beings to live among them as equals, and she had not even grown to like them as the rest of Tyr's wives had. But she knew the pair of them was in danger.

And what posed a treat to them would also compromise the safety of the Pride.

She touched the comm, "Tyr…"

******

Seamus was aware and not aware. He could feel Trance's unconscious form in his arms but little else. Something, or someone, propelled his feet forward and worked his arms and legs. He was nothing more than a passenger in his own body, along for the ride. 

He carried her to the docking bay and watched his fingers key in his release code. The shuttle door accepted his commands and opened. When they were inside, he stared at his hand as it keyed in his access codes. And watched himself as he put Trance in the co-pilot seat. He felt the softness of the pilots' chair beneath his own body as his fingers tapped instructions into the main terminal. 

Whatever he was doing, it wasn't just to this shuttle.

It was to the _Roark's _systems too.

******

Tyr's fingers stabbed at the controls. The internal sensors screamed warnings, the many security devices and failsafes had been breached. They were in the shuttle bay and they were stealing a shuttle.

They were stealing _his _shuttle!

Another set of alarms sounded and Tyr watched in horror as a cascade of failures spread throughout the bridge, taking out main propulsion but ignoring the environmental, external sensors and weapons. The intent was not to disable the ship completely, just to prevent them from following.

"Tyr!" Lauren ran onto the bridge, still clad in a tiny nightie and her hair mussed from sleep. She stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. "Trance? Seamus?"

"They've taken a shuttle."

"Why?"

Tyr shook his head, "unknown. Brull…" He paused, knowing his wife's dislike of the human's and not trusting her word…not completely.

"Brull what?"

"She thought they looked drugged…or possessed."

"Then why aren't we following?" She demanded, tossing her head towards the viewer and it display of stationary stars.

"We can not. The _Roark_ is paralysed."

"Then we can follow them in the –"

"No. They took the _Ayn_. None of the other shuttles can match its speed."

"We have to get after them!" She cried, "they could be in danger!"

******

He never knew the exact passage of time or what direction they took. He alternated between long moments of complete lucidity and even longer periods of haze and blackness.

He would learn, much later, that over a month passed and during that time, his body starved.

And Trance slept.

The journey ended in Light. Bright, brilliant light.

A sun? Or a planet in very close orbit?

He did not know. His mind was simply driftwood; there was no conscious thought. There was conceptualising of the Universe as he was seeing it.

There was only the now…

******

****

"You are Harper?"

His body went limp and he sank to the floor, sick and weak. It was gone. The presence that had guided him…controlled him…was gone.

He could have wept at the loneliness.

He looked up, the action requiring more energy than he thought he had, but he managed it. He was in a large hall, with gently glowing white walls and a huge vaulted ceiling. A tall, thin, yellow-eyed Eternal smiled kindly back. He knelt beside Harper, **"welcome."**

Harper swallowed and licked his cracked, dry lips. He could speak…he could use his voice…

If only he could remember how.

"I…" he closed his eyes and a wave of nausea gripped him. He had never felt this weak. He could see his own arms; they were nothing more than skinny sticks, worse than they had been during the times of hunger in the camps. But he forced himself to push out one question, one word. "Trance?"

****

"She is here." The being confirmed and he took Harper's arm to help his to stand. 

"Wh…ere?"

****

"She sleeps."

Harper felt a stab of fear and bit his lip in an effort to concentrate. He had to focus…

****

"Forgive me," the being smiled**, "you have questions and you are not yet able to answer them." **His voice was gentle, **"let me."**

He lay a hand on Harper's cheek, his fingers lightly stroking his temple, making little circles with his fingertips. Warmth spread throughout Harper, like he was laying on the beach on a beautiful summer's day. 

There was no need to be upright, no need to look the being in the eyes, for there was no need for such corporeal things.

__

Who are you? He asked.

****

You already know. The Gemini has told you of us.

__

You're an Eternal?

****

In your tongue, yes.

__

Just in our tongue?

****

And in many others, but not all. A name is no simple label, it determines how other's think of you.

__

Yeah, I'm with ya on that; you try being a Seamus Zelazney for a while.

A trickle of amusement rippled in the air and Harper imagined the being smiling. **To some we are the Living Dead, a negative, to other's we are Walking Souls, a positive. We have even been labelled Abominations.**

__

I don't understand.

Again he felt the ripple of amusement, this time coloured with affection. **Humans rarely do, you have much to learn.**

__

I don't want too. His voice sounded petulant even to himself.

****

You have no choice. The Gift is not a gift, it must-

__

…be served. Yeah, I heard. Trance had told him that. _Look, I'm not much into servin'. I didn't ask for this, I didn't want this. You want it back, it yours._

****

What we want is irrelevant. An Eternal does not have that choice. Or any choice. We ARE…and we will follow where we are asked to go.

******

Charlotte was crying again. Tyr listened to the soft sounds coming from the back of the observation room, and knew it was her. The little girl would always hide there when things went wrong. Tyr was the only person besides her parents and Trance who knew of her hideout. But more than that, he was the only person she permitted to come and sit with her.

He had never known why.

He debated going to her. He knew she'd been scarred by her father's sudden disappearance. It scared her, angered her, disgusted her and tormented her. Why had he left her? What had she done wrong?

And why…why had he stopped loving her?

What was so horrible, so very, very terrible about her that had made her own father leave her behind as if she had never existed and meant nothing?

******

Trance slept. Her body lay on a pallet in a small room at the back of the grand hall. Oolanah had brought him here as he'd asked, propelling his body. Harper was reminded of the tale that his mother would tell him when he was very small, Sleeping Beauty. If he'd had the strength he would have knelt at Trance's side and kissed her cold lips to wake her from her enchanted slumber.

But he could not. He could barely stand. His body screamed for nourishment but the Eternals had not offered him any food, nor had he even seen them eat.

Maybe they didn't need to.

__

What have you done to her? 

****

She sleeps.

__

Yeah, I can see that. Why does she sleep? No one's that freakin' tired!

****

It is the coming of the Night, therefore she sleeps.

Harper felt a cold chill run through him and his face paled, _Night?_

****

It comes in the absence of the Gift. We offer it a faster passage…as a thank you for the years of hardship.

Trance's word came back to him. _You mean death, don't you? She's dying?_

****

Your limited species can not comprehend the Night, but yes, in your tongue and in your understanding, it is death.

__

So its, "thank you for the servin', goodbye!"

****

Harper, the Night is welcome.

__

Trance spent that last five years not welcoming it or didn't you guys notice?

****

The Elders are aware of her acts. For once in our history, the Night will be sullied.

__

Huh?

****

The Night will be her punishment. We all must bare the shame.

Harper's anger flared, _so you're just going to kill her? You should listen to what she has to say! Every one deserves the chance to defend themselves in a court of law, or is justice something that only my "limited species" has?_

The being pulled back from Harper's face, severing whatever connection they'd had. Harper felt another wave of overwhelming loneliness at the Eternals absence and he realised just how limited humans really were.

The being straightened up, obviously shocked. **"I…I am surprised by your insight."**

Harper struggled to speak, but the words did not come out of his cracked dry lips.

****

"I will seek audience with the Elders."

He hoped his gratitude showed on his face. "Wh…name?"

The being smiled, **"I am called Oolanah." **And his eyes closed…

******

__

Trance started in recognition, "Oolanah?"

Faint affection crossed Harper's face, "yeah. And he still of the Gift, last I heard. Still inducting newbies to the cause."

******

Oolanah stood in the Chamber of Thought and felt the peaceful warmth of the Elders surround him. This place did not exist in form, but came instead from the Stings, from the Light cast by a thousand Eternals spread throughout the Universe. It existed inside him, inside Harper, inside all Eternals. This _was_ the Gift, in physical, yet _non_-physical form.

But it was not empty.

The most revered and ancient of the Eternals resided here and had done so for aeons. And would for many more

The Elders….

****

Why have you come among us?

Oolanah felt them as yet more warmth. **_It is the human and the creature we called the Gemini._ _She has refused the Night._**

We are aware of her crimes.

__

Yes, but if it is a crime, should there not be a trail?

Silence. The warmth rippled and cooled. **There is no question of guilt, Oolanah.**

__

No, but we should at least hear her reasons. That we might understand her actions.

Your affection for more limited species is well known.

__

I…admire their need for growth.

The warmth turned to heat, humid and oppressive. **Has Gallu performed the ritual?**

__

No, not yet.

When he has done so, bring them before us and let us hear what they have to say. A pause. **But let them know this…. Night shall fall for the Gemini. That is our fate, and we should ask no less of it.**

******

Harper watched the being beside him. Oolanah's eyes were fixed, the large yellow pupils dilated to the very edges of his lids. He had pulled himself to Trance's side and was leaning against the pallet she slept on. He had to stay awake for her sake, but his near exhaustion was pulling him down into the black space behind his eyes.

Just as his head lolled down onto his chest in slumber, Oolanah straighten up.

Another being joined them. This Eternal was taller and thinner, with red leathery skin and glosimer webbed "ears" on each side of his head. He had no eye sockets.

****

"It is time, Harper." This new being said, his voice was like gravel**. "Take my hand."**

Harper glanced at Oolanah, and he nodded. Harper lifted his bony hand and put it into the tall Eternals. The Eternal stared critically at it.

****

"Pitiful." He said, **"he still listens to the demands of his flesh. You have no need of food, Boy; it is only your limited human form confining your mind."**

Harper opened his mouth to retaliate, but his limbs trembled and his eyelids drooped. He did not have the strength.

The being then took Trances hand and began muttering softly. Words of pitch and sound filled the air with static and Harper felt his hair prick up on end. The oxygen around him turned to the consistence of treacle and he found he could barely breathe it. Oddly, he discovered he no longer needed to.

Trance's body stiffened and her hips lifted clean off the bed. In some corner of his minds eye, Harper saw the little sun tattoo on her back ripple and melt, disappearing and its energy flowed out of her hand into the being.

And then into Harper.

It crawled and trickled through him like white-hot needles, and burst like a flower bud blooming onto the flesh of his neck.

Black and ornate and faintly Celtic…like he was.

The pain was raw fire and he writhed in its grip. 

Moments passed and the pain ebbed. He reached up with his free hand to touch it and stopped when he saw his hand. He checked his arms and then the rest of his body. He was no longer starved. The skin was smooth and muscular again, instead of skin and bone.

Terror shot through him at a thought, and he turned to Trance. Hot bitter anger hit him at the sight of her, and not a little guilt.

The purple alien's eyes fluttered and opened in her now thin and sallow face. She was as he had been, thin and dehydrated, on the brink of starvation.

****** 

Trance struggled to regain consciousness. She could hear Harper's voice, muffled and full of echoes, but she recognised it. She felt as though a hundred years had passed since she'd held him in her arms…touched him…talked with him. Fear trickled through her at the thought. 

Another person's sense rippled behind Harper's, stronger and brighter and full of glorious colour, which made his human essence seem almost monochrome in comparison.

Dread coiled in her stomach as she recognised it.

The Eternals….

She was Home at last.

******

Harper knelt at her side; twin tracks of moisture dried cold on his cheeks. The last vestiges of his humanity was making itself felt. Trance smiled up at him and held out her hand. He took her thin, withered fingers and interlaced them with his own and brought them to his lips.

Her mouth curled up into a sleepy smile at the kiss. 

"Wh…what…." Her voice cracked, and she forced herself to take a breath, "what time is it?"

Harper frowned, confused by her question.

But Oolanah lay a hand on his shoulder and smiled at Trance. **"It is still Day."**

Harper felt a shiver run through him. 

****

"The Elders wish to speak to you."

"Who the hell are the Elders?"

Sound and light enveloped him and he realised he was about to find out.

"Oh crap!"

******

Harper jumped as world tilted. His eardrums itched at the sounds that came to him unnaturally, not through the ears or through the mind, but from reality itself. The Strings vibrated to the sound.

The Strings….?

But he couldn't see them, could he?

He turned to look at Trance and drew a sharp breath. Her skin was bright and clean, her form was once again slim and fit. But he knew this was not real. This was an illusion.

And he was way out of his depth.

"Trance?"

Oolanah shook his head; **"she will not hear you. We are only spectators here."**

******

****

Gemini…you walk among us mortal. It dishonours us as you have dishonoured the Night.

__

I beg your forgiveness! Trance cried, unsurprised by the suddenness. She had known this moment would come from the second she had given Harper the Gift. 

****

Our forgiveness is always. **And complete. But time cannot be undone. You are mortal, and another carries your Gift. A creature that cannot possibly understand what he has been given. You dishonoured him, by keeping from the path he should have taken. Five of his orbital cycles have passed, a long time for a human. If he were here, he would have been instructed. Now that chance is lost.**

__

He can still learn.

****

Perhaps. No Homo sapien has ever carried the Gift. They are simple creatures, blind to the Strings, blind to the nature of existence. And yet you pleaded his worth, and we trusted you. But you cannot think him worthy if you kept him from us.

__

I…It wasn't… How could she explain? Simple corporeal feelings had no basis here. _I was afraid._

****

Of us? We would have, and do, welcome Harper.

__

Of the Night. 

****

The Night is our gift to you. There is no need to be afraid of it.

__

I didn't want to leave this life…this String. Not when I have so much to live for.

****

We do not understand.

__

I wanted to live to be with Harper. Silence filled the Chamber and the static feel of the space cooled and twisted. _The Night would bring an end to my corporeal existence. We would…be parted._

****

As the human's death would have parted you? It was not a question.

Trance felt ice run through her veins and knew her answer, the only answer she could truthfully give, would condemn her. _Yes._

****

Then you admit you gave him the Gift out of selfishness. Heat accompanied the anger. Perhaps they did understand after all.

__

No…I… Her voice was small, unsure_. It wasn't that way….not…really…._

****

We will listen.

__

Harper is a good man. He didn't deserve to die! He wouldn't have died if I'd told him what I was! He gave his life to save mine… I had to repay that! I couldn't just watch and do nothing!

****

That is sometimes what we are asked to do. And it is what you should have done. You betrayed everything the Gift stands for!

__

All my life, since I was given the Gift, I've done everything that was asked of me! I've never wanted anything for myself…but I wanted this! 

****

Why? What is so special about this human?

__

I don't know, but he is! And he will serve the Gift; he will follow you.

******

"I will?" Harper laughed.

****

"You will." Oolanah confirmed, tonelessly. **"That is beyond question."**

******

****

That is beyond question, but is he worthy?

Trance felt tears run down her face; crying more from anger and frustration rather than sorrow. _He is worthy!_

****

You have no objective! The Elders raged, **you have seen the Strings this one will birth?**

Trance looked down, ashamed. She had glimpsed the possibilities in those long moments in the pod after she had given him the Gift. What she had seen had scared her and she had purposely chosen not to look again.

****

We have looked and there are many that are dark. We have looked into his past. He was born into darkness, he will only know sorrow. **That is his worth. And it is not enough to be of the Gift.**

__

Why not? She demanded, knowing her time was limited. There was nothing she could do to change either her future or her past. _He has a good heart. Isn't that worth enough?_

****

No, it is not. But the heat in the Chamber had faded and cooled, **but what is done is done. Had you and Harper come to us in the beginning, as is our custom, we may have spared you the Night. That would have been our gift. But now… Betrayal holds a heavy price. You accepted that when you began down this path, we cannot alter that now. **

__

I know.

****

The Night shall offer you comfort. We….are sorry, Gemini.

__

I know that too. She whispered.

******

Terror flashed through Harper, "wait. You can't! Oolanah, tell them I wanna speak!"

Reality crashed back in and Harper gasped, choking like a drowning man trying to gulp air. He fell back, arms flailing for something to grab on to. "What the-"

****

"You will learn to anticipate the shifts in the Strings." Oolanah smiled as he helped him up.

Trance got up from the pallet weakly, "Sha…"

Harper was at her side in an instant, "I'm here." He murmured, taking her hand to steady her.

She smiled at their intertwined fingers and her cracked, parched lips parted to speak but no sound came out.

"She needs water," Harper said, "and food."

Oolanah shook his head; **"we have none."**

"But she'll die!"

****

"Nothing will stop that now. The Day darkens."

Panic built in his chest, "darkens? Y'mean, this Night thing?"

****

"Yes."

"Lemme speak to 'em. They can't do this! I won't do any servin' if they do this!"

****

"They have judged." Oolanah replied. **"The Night should have come for Trance a long time ago. Her love may blind her at this moment in time, but truly, all Eternals come to welcome it."**

******

__

Harper looked away, "and we do, don't we?"

Her eyes were hooded, full of sorrow. "Yes."

******

"I don't. And neither does Trance." 

****

"You will understand one day." He lay a hand on Harper's arm. **"When the years have turned to centuries and you wait for the One who is worthy to carry your Gift. And when at last they come and it is given, your mortal life is isolated, cut off from purpose. You have to relearn how to live as a mortal, hollow and useless. So the Night was created, so that we could join the Strings without pain and incident. It smoothes the passage to mortal death."**

"The hell it does!" Harper grabbed Oolanah by the neck. "Make them save her!"

****

"It is over."

"NO!" He stared upward; directing his anger at the glowing ceiling, hoping the Elders could hear him. His grip tightened around the beings neck. "Stop the Night or I'll kill him!"

Then the futility of that threat struck him.

His hands loosened and fell to his side. 

A sob choked out and he tumbled to his knees, tears streaking down his cheeks. He looked up at Oolanah, "please." He begged softly, "please make it stop."

The being's face was full of compassion. **"I am sorry."**

Trance weakly moved to his side and wiped the tears away. Her thin, wasted fingers brushing lightly against his skin. She took his hand, her head moving back and forth slowly. "It…not…'portant."

"Trance, I'm not gonna still back and watch you die either!" He was caught between anger and despair. "I _can't_!" He looked up again. "Stop this, you bastards! You want me to serve ya? Make her live!"

Her hand stroked the tattoo upon his neck, her touch admiring of its beauty. "Seamus…"

But he ignored her and continued pleading. "You want me to beg? I'll beg! Show me how to give her the Gift!" He turned, "Oolanah, help me!"

Trance shook him gently. "Don't do this. It's over."

"No…"

"See the light?" She asked and he nodded, "it's fading. That is the Night, there's no going back and I…I don't want you seeing me this way."

He stroked her hair. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

A smile touched her lips.

He looked into her eyes, and saw in their depths everything he felt for her reflected back. She was so beautiful, even now, marred by the ravages of hunger and the first signs of the Night. 

There was something she had to know. Something he had long felt but never uttered.

"I love you." He whispered.

Tears cascaded down her cheeks at the words she had so long waited to hear. He wrapped her in his embrace and felt her head lay against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They stayed that way for a long while until Harper's voice broke the silence.

"How long?"

Trance pressed in closer, touching her face. Harper looked down and saw fine lines had formed around her shadowed eyes. She was ageing. And quickly.

She pulled back. There was no fear in her eyes, just bitter acceptance. "Not….enough."

"Forever isn't long enough." He kissed her dry lips, "not for you."

This was what she had felt on the pod, watching his life signs fail. He knew the terror and the helplessness she must have felt. He could understand her actions now; he would do anything, at any cost, just so that she could live. 

"I'm not afraid." She whispered.

A chuckle escaped. "That's 'cos I'm doin' enough for both of us."

She ran her fingers through his hair, memorising every detail, every line and freckle. Imprinting it into her mind so that she would never lose it, even amidst the Night.

"Y'know…ya once told me the Night was a gift." There was no anger. Just hurt and confusion. He had to know.

"It is."

"Death ain't a gift, Trance. This don't feel much like one."

"Not now. But it was. It would have been." She touched his lips, tracing their outline with her fingertip. "The Elders were right. I did betray the edicts of the Gift when I gave it to you. And now the Night becomes my punishment, when I have so much to live for."

Her finger moved up and traced the frown of confusion that appeared on his forehead at her words.

"You." She said.

******

Neither notices that Oolanah had left them. The room's glow was dim and pale. Night was falling… They lay together on the pallet, spent. Trance had only asked one thing of him: to make love to her once more. He did so slowly, gently, making this one act last a lifetime.

Even if that lifetime was forever…

Her skin wrinkled and her beautiful blonde hair turned dry and thin. Mottled marks of age marred her forehead; her ears became limp and pale. Only her eyes sparkled with the life her body could no longer sustain. 

Harper wondered how many years she would have lived for if the Eternals had not brought about the Night. How many wonderful memories they would have shared…

He smiled at the memories they already had… thousands of them. Tears pricked his eyes; they were not enough. They would never be enough.

"Do you remember when we first met?"

"Yeah," Trance laughed. His younger voice coming back to her so clearly it was as if he was speaking right now. _"Whoa, purple!" _ A smile touched her lips. 

"I thought you were sucha bubblehead. Purple sparkly bubblehead with a tail at the back. But then we gotta be friends and…" a blush crept across his cheeks, "I guess…guess I started thinkin' of you the same way only without the bubblehead bit. Y'know, when I had that stuff in my brain, the library files? Had this one bit from Walter Pater that kinda stuck in there even after I dumped it." Something crossed her face as he quoted, "_'She is older than the rocks among which she sits; like a vampire, she has been dead many times, and learned the secrets of the grave; and has been a diver in deep seas, and keeps their fallen day about her.'_ Felt like he was talkin' about you, y'know." 

A smile lit her ageing face. "I knew the moment we met you'd say that to me one day. I could hear it through the Strings." Her voice hitched, "I never knew it would be now…like this."

The room around them was dark now. The glowing of the walls had faded almost to non-existence as the Night progressed. There was barely enough light to see. 

"I love you." He whispered.

But she did not answer. 

When he looked down, he saw that she was dead…

******

****

Present Day…

Harper slumped down to the floor of his cell, breathing rapidly. His eyes shone brightly with tears he'd long forgotten how to shed. 

"You looked so peaceful." He murmured, staring at his hands, remembering the feel of her cold flesh when he'd held her for the hours following her passing. "Coupla centuries later…I envied you." He met her eyes, "then I started resenting you for that peace."

Trance reached out to hold him, and stopped a millimetre from the force grid. But that was not the reason for her hesitation. It was the bitter anger filling his face.

"I want the Night…I want…peace." His voice grew harsh; "we have to change it." 

"You know what you're asking me? That would violate everything I've ever believed in."

"I know."

"You know what the punishment will be."

"Yes. But while you carry the Gift, you will serve them. And you're the only one who can help Dylan, steer his destiny and now…now you know what went wrong. You can change it. The commonwealth won't fall again."

"Are you asking me to save the Universe…or just you?"

Harper met her eyes. "Neither, both. I dunno…but…. but that kid up on the med deck. He doesn't deserve this. Or Dylan, or you, Beka, Laurie…"

"I know that. He, you…. But it's not my place to make those judgements. Not on who…who gets to suffer and who doesn't."

"Isn't that what you're gonna do on that pod a few years from now?"

"That's not fair!"

"Neither's our future. And I dunno about you, Trance, but I gotta take this chance to _make_ it fair!"

She turned away. Did he know how hard it was to turn your back on your belief…just for one man?

"Then don't change it," he shrugged, bitterly, "just promise me you will never gimme the Gift?"

"That is still a change. One difference or a thousand, the result is still change." 

"So it's all or nothing, then." His voice was empty, "what'll it be, Trance?"


	13. Thirteen - Oceans Tide You Home...

Notes: Thanks to both Jess for talking me out of my trisklaphobia and "id" for reminding me of the time-travel paradox

Notes: Thanks to both Jess for talking me out of my trisklaphobia and "id" for reminding me of the time-travel paradox. I'd completely forgotten that one and it gave me a lot to think about. Thank you. Apologies to Euan Blair for the in-joke. No offence intended. ~ NorthernStar :o)

___________________________________________________________________________

****

Thirteen ~ Oceans Tide You Home…

Harper sat up in the medical bed and stared rapturously at the meal the doctor had brought him. A small ice cream sundae with banoffe swirls and topped with nuts, chocolate flakes and crispy bits. "Doc, I love ya!"

The blonde woman smiled, "you're welcome. Eat it slowly, though, OK?"

No hope there…

Harper dived into the dessert with gusto only to have the spoon whisked away. He glared at his torturer. "Hey!"

"Eat it slowly or you'll be seeing it again. And next time I'll bring you steamed cabbage."

Harper frowned. "I'll be good."

And he got the spoon back.

He scooped up a little bite and popped it into his mouth. Sweet, cold and creamy flooded his tongue and he closed his eyes. It was moments like this that turned an otherwise shit existence into something perfectly tolerable.

Half way through he looked up at her, "y'know, you wanna be workin' here full time. Trance usually brings me soup, it tastes like plasticrete."

******

"Full protection?" The president's eyes widened, showing disbelief. He and his aides sat at one side of the negotiations table, Dylan, Beka and Rev at the other.

Dylan straightened up; "the Andromeda is the most advanced warship in this system."

"In any system." Beka added.

Go'Mek paused, "I must admit I see many advantages to joining, and quite a few disadvantages. My people are settled, and our economy is strong. The changes a fledgling Commonwealth would bring to us could affect that."

"I think you'll see that, in the long term, the pros outweigh the cons."

"The long term?" Co'Mark, the first minister asked, "how long is the long term?"

Dylan took a deep breath, "I'd be lying to you if I gave you a certain amount of time. But the truth is, I don't know. None of us can predict what the future may bring." He thought of the Harper his crew had rescued and the story he had told Dylan and shivered. "But that is why I think your world would benefit from the protection of the Commonwealth."

An officer entered the room and snapped to attention, "sir!"

Go'Mek looked up, "what is it, Dal'El?"

"Sir, the Tella Grid is failing. We've traced it to a glitch in the upper pradal systems. The power is out across the northern continent."

All the Tellan's in the room gave an audible gasp.

"When will it be fixed?" Co'Mark asked.

"Unknown, sir. The…the Viv-En-Tor ceremony will have to be prespooned!"

******

A very long and silent moment had passed since Harper had asked her what she would do. Trance looked at the man before her. Thin and lean, with longish blonde hair and eyes that held the weight of centuries in their depths.

He was the man she would come to love. He was the man to whom she would give her Gift. 

He was the man who would ultimately come to hate her for what she had done.

The decision had already been made. It had probably been made the moment he awoke on this Andromeda. The moment she'd seen his tattoo and realised what it meant.

All that was left was for her to give that decision voice.

"Yes."

******

Beka watched from the back of the room as the Tellans barked orders and recriminations at each other. Their precious Viv-En-Tor ceremony was under threat. She doubted the Viv girl was to worried. Probably relieved. Who wanted to die in front of millions? 

Who wanted to die for their world anyway?

"Wouldn't be surprised if it was terrorism." She commented to Rev.

The Magog turned, "why would you say that?"

"The Viv's family and friends. Would you wanna watch your kin be sacrificed?"

"The Darva celebrations are most holy and Divine. And the Viv-En-Tor ceremony is one of the most admired in the known galaxies."

"Yeah, right." She dismissed. "If Harper were here, he could jack into the system." She thought briefly as the engineer lying in the medical deck. She hoped he was doing well.

Co'Mek turned at her words, "I apologise for eavesdropping, but do you think this person could help us?"

Beka looked awkward. "Probably, I guess. But he's up on our ship, half-dead."

"What about the other one?"

They both turned to Tyr, who had spoken.

"He still has a cerebral port." The Nietzschean said, "I presume it's functional."

Dylan felt his heart rate kick up and snakes coiled in his belly. Co'Mek watched him, large eyes demanding his agreement.

The captain didn't like it. Didn't like this whole mess.

But he couldn't refuse. Not if he wanted the Commonwealth restored.

"Beka, use the transport. Take Tyr with you." 

*****

The silence between them was broken by footsteps. They both looked up to see Tyr entering with Beka. Harper looked at Trance; their eyes met. It was now or never.

"Evidently luck is on your side." Tyr commented.

Beka shot him a look before turning her attention back to Harper. "Saddle up, Seamus senior, it's little Dutch boy time."

Trance frowned, "huh?"

"There's a hole in our crew," Beka said, and nodded at the future Harper, "he's gonna fill it."

"I still don't understand."

"There's a surprise," Tyr muttered sarcastically as he keyed his security code in the terminal. The force grid skittered momentarily, then vanished.

Harper stretched his muscles, turning a smug look on the Nietzschean. "Nothin' like the smell a' freedom."

Tyr pushed him back against the wall, eyes ablaze.

"TYR!" 

At Beka's shout the Nietzschean loosened his grip and after a few seconds let the man go. Harper continued to smile smartly at him.

__

Click. 

The smile fell away at the sound of cuffs locking. He looked down at the metal restraints around his wrist and cursed.

***** 

Beka walked quietly into the med. bay where their Harper lay, drifting in that warm and beautiful place just before sleep. His eyelids flickered but did not open. Lauren smiled at her from the other side of the bed.

"How is he?" She asked the doctor.

Lauren beckoned to her and led her to the door, taking her out into the main research and diagnostic area so that they could talk without disturbing the young man.

"His BP's normal, so his temperature. The wound is healing a lot faster and much better than I expected. He should be up and around in a couple of days."

Relief flooded her. "Thank you." She said, "I know you'd rather be with your sister right now."

"Perhaps, but I wouldn't be much of a doctor if I'd turned you down." She smiled, "besides, he seems like a nice guy. I'm glad I could help him."

"Harper and 'nice guy' in the same sentence…" Beka shook her head, smiling. "I didn't just come to see him, but you too. We're going back to the planet now, Trance'll take over here if you want to return with us."

"I'd like that. There isn't much I can do now."

They began walking in the direction of the docking bays, but Trance stopped them at an intersection. "I want you to stay with Harper." She told Beka.

"I can't, Trance. I'm going back to the planet."

"No, I have to go." She insisted, "and I can't leave Harper alone."

"Dylan said-" 

"I have to go, Beka."

"Trance…"

"Just please, trust me on this?"

*****

Dylan held the pen delicately between his fingers, poised over a sheet of simple white paper. Words had always come easily enough for him, be it speeches, threats, diplomacy, even romance. All had been challenging, but never against his nature.

But writing a small lament to his beloved was, it seemed.

No.

Not against his nature, he just didn't believe he would never see her again. Centuries kept them apart, but they could be breached. They had before, they would again. Who knew what lay ahead of them in the vastness of space?

One man who'd lived five centuries…

Yes, anything was possible.

He couldn't believe she was gone, not forever…

And that was why he had never really grieved. Why he still could not grieve…

And that left only one thing to write. 

Dylan's pen moved quickly, scrawling a few words.

And then he smiled…

*****

Bir'Mark tried to hide his face, not wanting his friend to see his distress. The Viv-En-Tor swallowed down her pills and smiled. She was used to this reaction from her friends, even one as well poised as the president's son.

"Its OK, Bir." She said, "I know this is difficult for you."

"It is you that has it difficult."

"Dying's easy, Bir, it's living that's the hard part." She frowned, "didn't you know that?"

"Words, they are all words."

"Maybe. I know it's an oversimplification, but it's still the truth." Kelly touched his arm, "if it helps, I'm not afraid."

"How can you not be? I am."

"It is like any unknown that you fear. But the closer it becomes… You grow tired of the worry and of being afraid. You just want it over with."

The Tellan was silent.

She smiled, "wish me luck, when the time comes."

"You know I will."

The door chimed, braking the uncomfortable atmosphere. Kelly silently thanked whoever it was as she opened the door. 

It was Dylan.

"Captain Hunt! It's a pleasure to see you again." She stepped back, "come in."

When he was settled on the sofa, she sat in the chair opposite and asked, "have the power outages been identified and corrected?"

"Not yet. A…member of my crew is on his way. He should be able to correct the problem internally a lot faster than a team of engineers could crawling through the systems."

"But…" she tilted her head, "this is not a social call."

"No, not exactly."

"Would you like a drink? I have been given a wonderful Ashla flower wine, which just begs to be shared but my friend, Bir'Mark here is a bit of a stickler."

"I'm afraid my station requires that I be sober at all times." The Tellan said with good humour and not a little embarrassment.

"Yes, wouldn't do for the son of the president to be found lying drunk in the gutter, would it?"

Bir'Mark gave her a mock admonishing look as she held out a glass of wine to Dylan. 

"Thank you." The captain said, "I have a request to make. I realise it is a little late, but…" he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. He held it out. "I was hoping you might deliver this."

Kelly's smile widened, "of course. I would be honoured."

She took the paper just as the central Comm beeped.

"Captain Hunt."

"Yes?"

"The royal transport has just docked."

"I'll be right there." He answered and put down his glass. He stood. "Thank you," he told the Viv-En-Tor. "I wish you good fortune on your journey. May it be filled with joy and contentment."

She touched his arm warmly, "thank you, captain."

Kelly watched him leave and only when the door had closed behind him did she open the little scrap of paper to memorise the words Dylan would have her take to the Other Side.

__

"I love you," he had written, _"see you soon."_

****

The transport door clanked open and the boarding ramp hissed out, thumping to the deck. Tyr stood in the doorway, his left hand under a cloak. Beside him, with his right hand also under the cloak, was Harper. At this distance, he was indistinguishable from his younger self. It was only as they began down the boarding ramp that Dylan could see the longer hair and the care-worn face. As they came closer, he could also make out the ornate tattoo around his port…and the bitterness that burned in his eyes.

Behind them walked the doctor, and…Trance?

Dylan felt a cold shiver run through him. He trusted his senses. There was trouble ahead.

*****

The trip to the main power complex on the pole continent was awkward. Dylan watched each of them in turn and read their tension clearly in their body language. The land vehicle was cramped and hot, with only a small path down the middle between the seats. Trance walked up and down this with her tail swishing back and forth, obviously agitated. When he'd asked her why she felt she had to come, she'd just asked him to trust her.

But the truth was, he didn't. Not when it involved the future Harper.

Harper had been forced to sit by the window next to Tyr, who kept their hands beneath the cloak, concealing the cuffs for the eyes of the Tellans, who would ask too many awkward questions if they knew. 

He wore a smug look and delighted in making pointed comments to Tyr. In all his years, Harper had learned many things. One of them, it seemed, was how to piss off a Nietzschean.

The small engineering crew kept to the back of the transport, sitting by themselves, obviously annoyed that the Darva celebrations were going to go on without them.

And finally, there was Lauren, who sat in the seats opposite Dylan. She had been assigned to them as a doctor. 

No, actually 'assigned' wasn't the right word. She'd volunteered. Go'Mek had been surprised that she did not wish to spend the few, precious remaining hours before the Viv-En-Tor ceremony with her sister.

Pain had briefly crossed Lauren's face at his words, but she'd shook her head.

"No, I'm needed here." She had said, "It's my duty. No one understands duty better than my sister. I would be betraying her if I didn't do this."

Dylan had admired her for that. She was everything her sister had claimed she was, and more. She was just what he looked for in a crewman.

And after the ceremony, she would be quite alone…

She sat staring out of the window, obviously trouble, glancing around occasionally at the older Harper. A frown would appear when she did so. She probably knew he was under arrest. And his indifference to the welfare of a man who was likely his brother…or twin…was confusing her.

It was a very long trip…

*****

The power complex was enormous, spread over miles, as far as the eye could see. It generated billions of bita-watts per day, feeding the main bulk of that power to the largest, most densely populated continent. 

Harper stared out the window, awed by its size and majesty. He both remembered this place…and yet he was seeing it for the first time.

Time was in flux, shifting, changing, and screaming…

The Strings twisted in on themselves, humming in discontentment as reality bent under the weight of the ever-increasing paradox. He could sense it, through the limited, blind awareness the Eternals had taught him centuries before. It was not, and never would be, enough to comprehend the Strings, but it had served him well throughout the years.

He had served them…

Trance's tail brushed him when she passed. He looked around and saw the strain the flux in the Strings was having on someone who, by nature and through the Gift, could see, feel, sense and understand them.

"Trance?" He called.

The girl stopped, met his eyes. He could see the tension there, the pain. He stared into her pupils and felt a terrible icy hand grip his heart. He had long thought the years of resentment had killed any love and compassion for her. But he was finding that was not, and never had been, true. His love of her was as strong as it had ever been, maybe even stronger.

And he hurt beyond words to see her suffer.

He opened his mouth to tell her it was OK. He'd live the life he'd had all over again, endure the pain, the long, bitter years, so she wouldn't have to go through another second of this torment.

But then she smiled, slight and fragile.

And he knew it was all right. He leant forward, pulling on the restraint around his wrist, earning a glare from Tyr, and hugged her to him with his free arm. She pressed herself to him and he gripped her tightly, not caring what the others thought.

He could feel their eyes on him. But it no longer mattered. Nothing mattered now, but Trance, the future and change…

******

After almost an hour, the land vehicle halted at the Central NeuroTech Outlet. They disembarked and the crew led them though the maze of tunnels and corridors and shafts to a large metallic room filled with terminals and viewscreens. Two pale, harangued looking Tellans were working fiercely on the main circuitry. The tallest looked around as the group entered, and all but sighed in relief when he saw the back-up crews. Having the Darva celebrations almost ruined on your watch was the death of any promising career.

"I am Gol'Tor, the administrator for this facility."

"Captain Dylan Hunt," Dylan replied, holding out his hand.

The administrator gave it a quick, careless shake. "Which one of you is Harpah?" He said, looking at each of them in turn.

"Harperrrrrr!" Harper stepped forward and returned the Tellan's pointed gaze with one of his own. Unimpressed, Gol'Tor simply snorted and grabbed a set of opti-neural cables and held them out. "Plug in."

Harper took them and checked them for any damage that might fry his cerebrum. "And it is SO nice to meet you too…" he winked in Trance's direction, "again…sorta…"

Dylan tensed, suddenly wanting to pull Harper out of there. But it was too late.

What would be, would be….

Changed…?

*****

Beka sat at the edge of Harper's bed, holding a hand of cards and cursed. The man was half bloody dead, held together with stitches, drugged up to the nines…

And he could still loose badly at poker.

It made her feel not a little guilty.

"Read 'em and weep, Seamus," she said, laying the full house down on the bed. Harper tossed his cards in the air, revealing a two pair of 3's and 6's. Would the kid ever learn?

"You oughta know by now, I don't bluff."

"'Cept when you are. And hey, how do I know this whole 'I never bluff' attitude isn't a bluff." He waved his finger, "and I've seen ya bluff plenty. That Nightsider on Divat Four? And the Caloran security force… Was there _anything_ you said to them that _was _the truth?"

"I meant the thank you I said to their little officer for the free drink."

"You hated that drink! You spat it out all over their superintendent, which got us thrown off the planet as well as fined for-"

"I got us thrown off the planet! That was your fault!"

"So I might've said a few things…"

"To the judge! And 'said' is pretty much an understatement, how about 'insulted?'"

"I said nothing that…" A yawn cut him off as he gapped for air.

Beka frowned, "you better get some rest. Trance'll yell her purple arse off if she thinks I kept you up."

"You did."

She punched his arm and he laughed, which turned into hacking coughs. She hurriedly gave him the inhalant by his bed and watched as he sucked on the medication. Gradually his coughs died down and he slumped back onto the pillows exhausted.

"Wonder how they're doin'." He asked when his breathing had returned to normal.

"Let me worry about that. You. Sleep."

He glared at her for a moment then sighed, "whatever ya say, Boss."

Smiling, she turned to leave him to sleep.

"Beka?"

She turned in the doorway.

"What are we gonna do with him?" 

She didn't need to ask which 'him' he meant. She looked down a moment, "I don't know."

"Keep tryin' to think why I'd…he'd do it, but…I don't know."

"I think Dylan does, and…" She frowned, "…Trance, I think, I guess."

His face was bleak. "Wish I did…"

*****

Lauren got out her bio-scanners and hovered over Harper as he double-checked the neural connector cables. Trance stood on the opposite side of him, under the pretence of keeping an eye on his vitals while he was inside. The purple alien's agitation had increased ten-fold in the last half an hour. Her tail lashed from side to side like a whip.

Harper took a deep breath, collecting himself. It had been over fifty years since he'd done this. At least there was no pain now. The neural technology had improved over the centuries. 

He poised the live connector over his port and flashed a grin at Trance; "here goes nothin'."

And he pushed the jack in.

His consciousness shattered…

*****

The lines of data blurred and crossed, screeched and twinned. Old pathways met new, the past met the future... His Gift-heightened senses had long ago meshed with his human brain, but his cerebrum was criss-crossed with over 500 years of experiences. More, by far, than any human should have.

The mainframe surged with the influx of superior technology. Everything melded, and coalesced and…finally collapsed.

Blue fire arced, filling him. Pain ripped along the fibres of his being. His soul disassembled into pseudo-atoms.

He screamed, but no sound came out. The ever-death of the Slipstream had been a mere annoyance compared to this. This was pain, personified, made flesh.

Pain beyond pain beyond pain….

And there, glinting like crystals in newborn sand, were images.

The flashes of a future past…


	14. Fourteen - Flashes of a Future Past (For...

Fourteen ~ Flashes of a Future Past (Forward/Back VI) ****

Fourteen ~ Flashes of a Future Past (Forward/Back VI)

****

Forward…

His time among the Eternals was the stuff of nightmares. Their teachings were erratic, seemingly unconnected and outwardly defying every law his limited human understanding held. Sleep would come suddenly and would last for days, yet offered no rest. His stomach ached for food and water, but there was none. His mind muddled under the weight of all he had to learn and his limbs became nothing more than heavy sacks of flesh.

And at the centre of the confusion was Trance…

Or at least the grief she had left behind.

It felt unreal that she was gone, like something he'd dreamed once but wasn't true. Not a moment went by that he didn't expect her to walk in the room with a cheeky grin, her tail curving behind her to pull him into bed until she became his whole world again.

Time passed in motion, but as something to be watched, like the turning a wheel. And then it would almost seem to stop, a breath held, before plunging back into the fury. It was a sickening up and down rollercoaster ride that battered his senses like waves crashing on the shore.

Tossing him, tormenting him, the anguish scraping at his very soul until he wanted to claw at his own skin and rip the Gift from his bones so he wouldn't have to suffer this anymore.

__

Make it stop… Make it stop… Make it stop… Make it stop…

And it did.

*****

His mind floated in the calm that followed, drifting amid peace. Eventually, he opened his eyes and saw the curving black metal of the _Ayn's_ hull above him. He was back on the shuttle he had stolen from Tyr while possessed by the Eternals.

And he wasn't alone.

Oolanah smiled down at him, but, with a quick intuition, he realised that the Eternal wasn't really there. He was just an image tossed up by Harper's subconscious.

****

"It is time, Harper." He told him.

He groaned and curled on his side. He wanted to sleep, deeply and peacefully, for a thousand years if nessicary. Anything to keep from this life. There was nothing here, no Trance, no Charlotte…

****

"Your journey is to serve."

He pressed his hands over his ears, knowing the futility of that. The Eternal was in his thinking, not the shuttle. There was no way to shut out his words.

****

"Close your eyes, Harper. Listen to your Gift."

He fought the temptation, his knuckles turning white with the effort, but his eyes fluttered shut all the same. And there, just beyond his thoughts, tugging at his consciousness, prodding him forward was a sound, an edict. To seek out those who shaped the future with their hands, and aid them.

****

"Feel the bracelet in your hand."

"No."

Oolanah smiled. **"You will."** He touched Harper's forehead and the young man's eyes drooped and fell. **"Sleep well, young one."**

****

Six Months Later…

His name was Benoni. A tall, skinny lad of 14, with a mop of pale red hair falling into large watery eyes. There was nothing remarkable about him, just an ordinary boy, but he was the One.

The first…

He wanted to bring peace to his shattered world. 

Harper made sure he did…

*****

"I'm sorry." Harper whispered, trying to shield the dying boy from the bitter cold. Warm him with the heat of his own body.

Benoni swallowed his own blood that was bubbling at his mouth, choking him, a line of red trickled out of his lips. "Your not…blame. It was…Ilition."

Guilt and anger consumed him; "I helped. You wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for me."

Benoni gave a cry of pain and gripped Harper's hand tighter. "It was…meant…"

His body relaxed as death took him.

Harper screamed…

But the next day the people stormed the capital and stood in silence, in their millions to grieve the lose of a child who had died for what he believed in. Rain battered them, the winds lashed cruelly, as if the weather itself was reeking vengeance for the boy.

But the millions stayed. The Government could not hide from their might.

Peace came slowly afterwards.

But it came…

****

Two Years Later…

__

"In and out the dusty bluebells,

In and out the dusty bluebells,

In and out the dusty bluebells…" The child danced around the younger ones, keeping them entertained, her long ponytail of blonde hair flying behind her. 

She had grown. Tall and beautiful like her mother. And smart, like him…

Like her…. father?

Could he call himself that? Did he have the right? He had not been there for the first two years of her life or the last…how many? Three?

But that wasn't the worst. He hadn't tired to find her. The need to serve the Gift he carried was strong, stronger every day and what little there was left of the Harper he had been, too consumed by his own sorrow to think of anything else. And afterwards when healing had begun, it hadn't seemed right to just walk back into their lives again.

****

You did not come to this place for her. She is not the One, Harper. 

A cold shiver ran through him at the Eternals' words. He would never get used to their intrusion into his consciousness, sometimes daily, sometimes years would pass between their contact.

****

Your path lies upon another Sting.

__

Screw you, that's my daughter! I've missed too much of her life already!

"Charlotte, bring the kids, its time to go." A woman called.

A shockwave ran through him when he recognised her and he automatically stepped back into the shadows to avoid being seen. Lauren had aged far faster than the years. Her hair was cropped short, but still feminine. 

****

They are merely players, you are more.

He watched the girl round up the youngsters and lead them away. He bit down on his own lip, tasting his own coppery blood. 

He couldn't move.

Couldn't call out.

"Are you OK?" A voice at his side broke his revelry. 

He turned and saw a woman, no taller than he was, staring at him with concern. She clutched a set of welfare flyers in her hand and he guessed she was one of the Anti-Ilition demonstrators.

"You're bleeding!" She cried in alarm and he wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand.

"It's nothing."

"Here, let me." She said softly, digging a tissue out of her pocket. She took his chin in her hand and dabbed at the cut. She paused for a moment; "I'm Lana." She said and continued her ministrations. He returned her smile.

The Strings energised; it felt like static on his skin. And he knew. Her destiny was his, hers to be great, his to steer her to that greatness.

__

So soon after Benoni? He wondered, but the Eternals were silent again.

A year and a day later, he was burying her…

****

3 years later…

He looked up, stared across the bar. The haze of smoke and illegal substances obscured his vision, which was already hampered by too much drink and not enough food. But there was no mistaking what he saw.

Who he saw…

Tyr Anasazi.

The Nietzschean's body was tense and alert as he looked around, his eyes slowly scanning the crowd.

Then he stopped and Harper knew he had been spotted.

Long ago, a lifetime it seemed, he had stolen Tyr's shuttle. The one he had crashed on this planet the year before and hadn't the money to salvage, or even get off world

Harper looked down at his meagre meal, picking up the spoon to push the porridge around the bowl, hoping he was wrong and he hadn't been seen.

Tyr approached his face dark with anger. 

The Nietzschean stopped at his table, looming over him, staring down at the man he'd once begrudgingly called 'friend.'

"If ya lookin' for the _Ayn_, she's out on the Briffa Reefs." He looked up, "most of her anyway. Looters got in a coupla months back."

"I know. Krin is recovering her." He said smoothly, "it was you I came to find."

Harper ignored his last words, "Krin, huh? Still haven't figured out he's a little bastard who'll leave you dead in a second if it was good for him."

"He is Nietzschean." Tyr said, not contradicting him. "I would expect nothing more, nothing less." He sat down in the chair opposite Harper. "However, for some reason, I expected more of you."

Harper watched his porridge slide off his spoon and didn't look at him.

"Aren't you even going to ask?" Tyr demanded, "do you care how they are?"

"They…" Harper's heart ached. He had forced himself not to think of them. To do so was too painful. He looked up, his mouth dry. "How are they?" His eyes were not.

The Nietzschean paused, perversely making him wait until he could see Harper's hand begin to shake with the effort not to beat an answer out of him.

"Charlotte's a natural pilot. I have never seen anyone her age so talented, especially in the slipstream." His voice betrayed a wisp of affection. It shocked Harper to hear it; his daughter was a special person if she could draw such admiration from someone like Tyr. "But she wants to follow her mother and become a doctor."

The fingers that gripped the spoon had gone white. "And Laurie?"

"She's…happy."

"It wasn't my choice to leave, Tyr, I never-"

"That is not my story to hear."

"But you can tell her, explain…"

"I am not your messenger." There was an element of danger in his voice.

"I…Tyr, I can't."

"They're here now, on this planet. I did not tell them why we came here or that we had finally located the _Ayn's _signature. But you owe them this."

"It's not that simple." _Eternals? Where are you? Why are you silent?_ "I can't just walk back into their lives."

"You didn't seem to have any trouble walking out of it."

"You don't understand, I-"

"I do understand. You are a coward!"

His words stung. 

"You fear their anger and their rejection so you would rather hide from them than allow them the peace they deserve. You dishonour them and yourself by denying them closure!"

__

But the Eternals…

****

You have time now, Harper. The Strings are calm, empty of the Ones. We will call you again.

__

When will that be? He demanded. Aloud he said, "I have…reasons. I can't stay."

Tyr snorted. "A pathetic argument. Whatever your 'reasons' they have a right to know them."

****

We cannot say. The Strings are forever changing.

Harper pushed out his chair, sending it flying and stalked out of the bar. Tyr followed with long strides.

"Stop!"

Oddly he did. "I can't see them again, OK? And, be with them, and…and have it all taken away again when those bastards decide I gotta do more 'servin'!"

Tyr did not ask who 'the bastards' were. His silence was more damning than any words he could say.

Harper clenched his fist, fighting the urge to hit out at something, anything. "You can't know what this is like."

"I do." Tyr answered calmly.

Harper's anger fled. Yes, Tyr did know. He had made the same choice when he had found out that his brief union with Freya had produced Rosa. Perhaps that was why he was so passionate here. Harper's shoulders slumped; he was so tired, so empty. "I have…work…it's important…to Trance." He met his friend's eyes. "I lost her…lost everythin'. I just can't go through that again."

"Then you place your feelings above that of your own child's."

"No."

"Then stop thinking only of yourself!" 

*****

The marketplace was crowded, full of lifeforms every colour of the rainbow and a few more besides. The Outer Rim territories had become the galaxy's refugee encampments since the Illition had ceased control of Dylan's restored Commonwealth. These townships were dirty, crime ridden, hellholes that the Peace Enforcement army had long ago abandoned. 

Lauren had no idea why Tyr had wanted to come out this far. The food stores and water reserves were full; the ship had been surprisingly prosperous these past few years. But the Nietzschean had been insistent and secretive. Not so much out of the ordinary, but he had also been on edge. Uncomfortable at times, even…nervous?

"Mum, look at this!"

Her daughter's voice brought her back to more important matters, namely Charlotte's thirteenth birthday present. Her little 7 pound 2 ounce infant was about to become an official, bona fide teen.

At least in years.

Her emotional maturity had begun years before, impressed on her far too early in her life.

Her father had disappeared and she'd had to grow up fast.

Lauren shook her head to push away the thought and turned to Charlotte. "It's pretty." She told her.

"Is Haal Stone. Very mystic." The stallholder told her in broken Common. "Makes for having nice dreams."

Charlotte nodded, "I've been reading about them." She said to her mother, "they're like Native American Dreamcatchers. You put it beside your bed and it watches over you while you are in the Dreamscape."

Lauren smiled and held up a hand to stop the inevitable lecture. Charlotte absorbed information like a sponge, but had a habit of dropping all that knowledge into her conversations. If you didn't stop her, she would rattle on for hours. She pointed to some stalls further on; "I can see some silks, honey. I'll only be a minute."

The girl waved absently as her mother disappeared. She was to busy checking the smooth round crystal for flaws. There didn't appear to be any. "How much?"

"For you is 300."

"300!" She cried, "I'm not paying that!"

"Is worth it. Haal Stone very rare. Not find another in all planet."

"This is flawed. It's slightly off colour." 

"Is in need of wash, yes."

"No, I mean that." She held it up to the light to reveal a faint pink-ish ting. "See?"

The old stallholder squinted into the crystal's depths and frowned. "As I say, is very rare. Even rarer, maybe, this pink."

"There's nothing rare about a flawed Haal Stone." Charlotte replied. "How do I know this one won't give me bad dreams?"

"I own for two solar cycles. I not having bad dreams."

"I'll take it off your hands for 50."

"50! You are making joking." The stallholder snapped. "250."

"75."

"200."

"100!"

"I do for you special price. 150."

Charlotte stared him down, knowing from his body language that was as low as he would go. She checked her purse. And sighed, "125?" she asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"No, is worth more than what I ask already."

"Look, I only have 125 and I don't even wanna spend all that."

"Then I sell someone else."

Charlotte sighed and was about to go find her mother when Tyr came up to her, with a human at his side. She frowned and briefly considered asking the Nietzschean for the extra. He was often more generous with her than with his own children. But the human man cleared his throat before she could speak.

"Look, I, um…I couldn't help…y'know, over hearin' and I…" he held out two small square coins. A 20 and a 5. "Here."

Charlotte stared open-mouthed; "I don't know you!" Then she glanced at Tyr, "do I?"

Her desire to buy the Stone was overriding the good sense her mother had impressed on her about these situations. And besides, he was with Tyr, who was making no objections. That made it OK, surely.

"Erm, I know you…shouldn't take money from a stranger." The man's face paled and he looked down at his feet, "and…and you shouldn't. But, I…I'm, er, not really a stranger."

She looked at Tyr, "isn't he?"

This was a possible way around the problem. A loan from a friend would be all right, especially if she paid him back. Which she would. And he did sort of look familiar.

"No, he's not." Tyr confirmed.

"So it's OK to…?"

"I do not believe your mother would have any objections."

Smiling at his reassurance, Charlotte took the coins and added them to her own. "I'll pay you back." She told him as she paid the stallholder, who began wrapping the Stone. 

She turned back to the man with Tyr. He was young, only a few years older than Rosa, Tyr's eldest daughter. Was he a suitor? He wasn't Nietzschean, but that meant very little. Tyr was not openly favourable to cross-species relationships, but he did not object to them. He couldn't really. One of his lovers had been human; a woman named Beka, of whom her mother spoke of with great respect.

"Who are you?" She asked him.

"Seamus bloody Harper!" 

It was Lauren.

Everyone jumped at the doctor's voice and turned to stare at her. 

"What!" Charlotte exploded, "you mean that's my dad!"

A hush fell over the market as the crowds stopped to listen.

"HIM!" She pointed at Harper, but her eyes were blazing at her mother. "What did you do, rob the cradle?"

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the watching masses.

Lauren walked over to her daughter, her face betraying her regret that she'd yelled his name like that. A gut reaction she couldn't stop. "Charlotte…"

"Don't touch me!"

Harper spoke up. "It wasn't-"

"Shut up, 'dad!'" She turned her fury on him and he visibly flinched. "What the hell are doing here?"

"I…came to see you."

"How nice!" She snapped sarcastically, "well you've seen me. I won't keep you, I'm sure there's a hundred other places you've gotta be. Thanks for the pocket money, Seamus." Her words came faster and faster, tripping over each other. "25 Rands spread over, what? 8 years? What a cheapskate!"

And she turned on her heals and fled.

*****

She was shaking by the time she got back to the _Roark._ Arms and legs weak and trembling. She ran to her room and keyed the lock before flinging herself onto her bed.

Her father…

She had just met her father. No, no, she was wrong. There must be another Seamus Harper. It wasn't that unlikely after all. How many Charlotte Longs were there in existence? Hundreds, probably.

But…

But he did look something like the man in the holo's her mother kept. The ones Lauren thought she didn't know about. His hair was longer now, and his face thinner and unshaven, but…it was him.

Her father.

The man she'd dreamed about, a heroic hero who would one day return to reclaim her. Tell her his leaving was just a mistake; a long, long dream they could burst like a bubble.

A knock sounded on her door.

"Charlotte?"

A wave of disappointment surprised her. Some tiny corner somewhere inside her had hoped her father would be the one to follow her. She pulled the bedclothes over her head.

"Charley, I want to talk to you."

The use of her baby name annoyed her; "I don't wanna say anything to you."

"Charley…"

"Don't call me that!" She yelled, "just please go, mum."

"I…"

"I just wanna be left alone, OK?"

*****

Lauren walked into the almost empty mess hall. She got a coffee from the drinks dispenser and took it over to the only other person in the room and slumped down in the chair next to him.

"Gotta give you credit, Seamus, you're good at this."

He looked at her questioningly.

"Messing with peoples lives. You did a great job when you left and an even better one coming back."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry's what you say when you break a cup, or step on someone's toe." She said, "sorry just doesn't cover this."

"It's all I can say, Laurie."

She met his eyes; "it's her birthday tomorrow."

He felt sick. He hadn't remembered. What kind of monster was he anyway? He was turning into his father, a man who had professed to love his son, and probably had, but had ultimately been unable to show it.

She watched his reaction and found no comfort in them. "Why come back, Seamus?"

His heart sank. He knew this question would be asked, and he knew he would speak the truth. "Tyr found me."

He expected anger, but there was none. That would come later, when the shock had died away.

"And Trance?"

He looked away and when he spoke, his voice was hollow, "she's dead."

Lauren crossed her arms, clutching at her chest as if to hold in the grief. "Didn't expect that of Trance."

"I know."

"How?"

He met her eyes, the truth was complicated, a lie even more so in the long term. A half way truth would have to surfice. "She got sick."

Her hand wavered a moment, then the decision made, took his and held it. He looked at her in surprise and in that moment felt more comfort than he had ever had,

A silence fell and lasted for over an hour. Interrupted only by one of Tyr's sons, who made a quick exit when he realised he wasn't welcome.

"It wasn't my choice," he said, eventually. "Leaving, I mean."

She snorted, "does it matter?"

"Yes!"

"I know, Seamus." She said, "Brull saw you that night. You and Trance; she said you were...possessed or sleepwalking, something like that."

"We were…"

"Tyr accepted that. So I did too." She looked hard into his eyes; "he tried to find you for years afterwards. I thought he'd given up. I was surprised by how much he seemed to care about you."

So was he. But perhaps he shouldn't. They'd been through a lot together, and then there was Beka… Next to Trance she was probably the closest he came to a best friend. Beka would have searched for him, so Tyr would, in her memory.

"Do you want me to go?" He asked.

"It's not up to me."

******

Lauren let him into the quarter's she shared with her daughter, but she didn't stay. Harper was partly glad of that, and the rest of him needed her there. He was afraid of his own child.

He had never hated himself as much as he did at that moment.

After a moment, he gathered his courage and tapped on Charlotte's door. Some piece of his brain recognising that the pretty stencils he and Trance had painted, proclaiming _'Charlotte's Room'_ had been covered long ago.

"Mum I said I didn't wanna talk!"

"It's…It's not your mother, Charlotte." He murmured, leaning back against the wall. "It's…Seamus. I-I think we need to talk."

Silence came from the room. Whether that meant she didn't mind his talking or if she wasn't talking to him, he couldn't tell. 

"I wanna say 'let me make it up to you' but how do you make up all those years? Almost your whole childhood…" He laughed bitterly, "for as long as I live," another laugh, "and that's gonna be a long time, I'm gonna regret that."

Again there was no reply, but there was no angry outburst either. Was that a good thing?

"I know that… you know I didn't just leave." He sank down to the floor and rested his head on his knees; "I was forced." 

Still no sound came from the room.

"Your mother knows that and I know her too well to think she'd keep that from you." He sighed, "but you're right to be angry. I didn't come back when I should have. I was a coward…and I...lost someone important to me. I just wanted to be alone. But that doesn't make it right, Baby, and I'm sorry."

Still no answer. Harper felt tears trickle down his cheeks. "I love you, Charlotte. That's never gonna change."

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I wanna do what right. Not by me, but by you. So I… I'll go if you want."

He stood and looked at the door. Then he turned away.

It opened a crack. "We could try." She said.

He looked around, hopeful. "Try what?"

"To make it up."

*****

The hawthorns had grown strong over the years, and were just coming into bloom. Beka would have loved to see it. It was very late aboard the _Roark,_ the Pride were mostly asleep; there was no one to interrupt them. Harper knew they looked like any other family going for a walk.

Charlotte walked a little ahead, uncomfortable with being at her father's side, staring at her feet as if they held all of her attention. Harper knew she was listening, her head would rise occasionally when she didn't understand something he'd said. He wondered what it was like to hear your father is immortal.

Lauren studied his face, "you never told me."

"I couldn't." He sighed, "I'm sorry."

"We had a right to know!"

"Maybe." He stopped walking and faced her. "But I'm telling you now." He paused. "Laurie, the Eternals will call me again. I can't ignore them."

She started walking again, absorbing all he had told her. Over an hour passed before she spoke again.

"What will you tell the others?"

"That I'm a vain SOB who takes Tettoran supplements to stay young."

Lauren laughed, but she knew by his tone that he was serious. "We'll have to leave if they get suspicious."

"I doubt it. No one questioned Trance, even when she came back from the dead." Then he realised what she had said, "we?" He repeated.

She met his gaze steadily, "for Charlotte." She explained.

He nodded and they left the observation deck and began walking back towards Lauren's quarters. At the door, she bid him good night and disappeared inside. Charlotte lingered a moment longer, her face full of questions he knew he would have to answer over the coming months and…years?

"I'm…I…" She looked down at her feet, embarrassed and nervous. "I'm glad you're gonna stay, Seamus."

He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let go; he wanted her to see smile at him again; he wanted to say how much he loved her and see her belief in her eyes. 

He wanted many things, but as always, he knew he couldn't have them. "You used to call me Dad, remember?"

Her lowered head shook for 'no.' It broke his heart that she could not look at him. When she did, it hurt even more. "I can't call you dad."

It felt like a knife going through him. If he had heard malice in her voice, it would have been a comfort. Then he would have known it was just her anger. But all he heard in her tone was apology and embarrassment.

"Not…yet." She added. "I'm sorry."

****

******

It was awkward at first, full of false steps and nervous falls. Hard work and yet the easiest thing in the world. Being around his beautiful child again made him feel normal. Maybe it was this moment that everything fell into place…

"You're here early, Seamus."

Harper and Lauren chewed nervously on their breakfast and looked at each other, then at her. She frowned, knowing there was something they were leaving unsaid, something she ought to pick up on…

"Oh…" Then the faint embarrassment on their faces registered. The penny dropped_. "Ohhhh!"_ Then a thought, "ewwww!"

But then it might have been this…

Charlotte looked up as her father came out of the room, his face full of elation. She bounced up off of the chair and flew over to him, her face alight with anticipation.

"Well?" She demanded.

He broke into a grin; "it's a girl!"

"YES!"

"She's fine, your mum's fine…"

Charlotte let out a squeal of delight and threw her arms around him. He hugged her back, eyes closed; this was the first time he'd held her since before…

He swallowed the tears that formed in his eyes. Fate had given him one daughter today…

…And given him _back _another.

****

10 Years later…

He had not slept in days. Not since _he'd _stepped on board the _Roark._

The One…

He would be the greatest challenge Harper had ever faced. The Gift was asking more than it would ever offer him.

Lauren touched his shoulder and he turned. "What is it?" She asked.

He smiled up at her. "You should be sleeping."

"Your son had other ideas."

"I thought I heard him." Harper smiled, thinking of the tiny newborn that Lauren had borne him just five days ago. It was a thought tinged with sadness. The Eternals would call him soon. His only comfort was that this One would be on the Roark. He wouldn't have to leave his family. 

Lauren frowned, worry clearly written in her eyes. "Is it about that boy, Daniel?"

"Yes." He met his wife's eyes, "can't explain it, Laurie. I just know. He needs my help to find his way."

"Whatever it is," she whispered, "whatever these Eternals want you to do, _we'll _do it. Together. I'm not going to lose you again."

****

53 Years Have Passed…

John Harper smiled to hide the brief shock he always felt when he saw his grandfather, who appeared to be no older than his own son, JJ, enter the room. He had not seen Seamus for the last four years, and as ever, the man had not aged a day.

Unlike him…

"How is he?" His grandpa asked.

"Mother's with him." He replied, "she thinks he's been waiting for you."

He turned to go into the room.

"Grandpa?" It sounded ludicrous to call this young man that, but unlike his sister and his cousins, he couldn't quite bring himself to call him Seamus now that he was an adult.

"Yeah?"

"Is nana OK?"

His grandfather sighed, eyes weary. "She's ageing."

****

Charlotte was tending to her patient when Harper entered. She glanced up at her father and smiled. The man in the bed squinted at the newcomer, his greying hair falling over his weathered, deeply lined face.

"I thought you were your grandfather."

Charlotte took the old man's hand, "Tyr, that isn't JJ. That's Seamus."

Harper's lips twitched at his daughter's words. In all the long years, she had rarely called him dad, even after he and Lauren had married and the other kids came along. 

The Nietzschean stared at him, "I am old not feeble minded."

"Would JJ know that you used to call me the 'Little Professor'?"

"He might."

"OK, would he know that Beka had 4 tiny moles of her butt that looked like a diamond?"

Tyr frowned, "No, the question would be how do you know that?"

"We did a lotta surfin' together. She used to wear those string bikinis. It was hard enough tryin' to keep balanced without her walkin' 'round in those things."

Tyr choked out a small laugh. And then he leaned back on the pillows to study him. "It is true then. You do not age."

Charlotte looked guiltily at her father, "I'm sorry. I can't keep secrets from Tyr."

"It's alright." He told her and looked back at Tyr. "I guess I shoulda told you a long time ago."

The Nietzschean raised his hand and cupped Harper's cheek, marvelling at the smooth skin, untouched by the years. "I envy you."

Bitterness stabbed his heart, "don't." 

"Tell me…"

Harper leant back and began.

*****

"And Lauren?" 

Harper took a breath. "She's good."

"But old." The Nietzschean murmured, "unlike you."

He looked at his daughter, not wanting her to hear this. "She's…distant now. She thinks her ageing is repulsive to me."

Tyr's eyes were full of understanding, "and is it?"

He shivered, "I don't want her to die." He looked up at his daughter, who was now middle aged. Her hair greying and lines marred her once beautiful features. "She gave me permission to find someone else."

"She's afraid."

"She doesn't have to be."

"Like it or not, your drives are strong. You will want another woman." Tyr whispered, "she is just making it easier on both of you."

"No."

Tyr smiled, his eyes closing. He was exhausted. Charlotte bent over him and touched his forehead. She looked up at her father with sorrow.

Harper understood and took his friends hand again. Tyr opened his eyes and looked up at him.

"Whatever this is…that keeps you young…treasure it."

"I can't."

But Tyr was gone.

****

3 More Years Have Passed…

Lauren looked up at her husband, who smiled back at her. His face as young and fresh as the day they had met. Beside him stood their four children, all middle aged now, growing older than their father would ever be. Charlotte was a grandmother herself, Claudia about to be, Christian was already a grandfather and finally, Kelly _("I'm not having another child with a 'C' name, Seamus! I'm calling her Kelly, after my sister."_ Her husband had laughed, _"it's still pronounced 'c'._") 

Beyond them stood her grandchildren, and some of her great grandchildren.

"Still…serve." She murmured to her husband. Her voice no more than a whisper. "It's…more than any…of us."

Harper nodded; the pull of the Eternals already strong. Another One was coming.

"I will." He promised. His words the last she ever heard.

****

38 Years Forward…

"JJ!" Harper rushed into the hospital ward, frantically looking around for his great-grandson. "JJ!"

A greying man who was losing the battle against middle aged spread, got up from the chair outside the Intensive Care bay. Harper immediately recognised him as the child…well, man now, he'd helped deliver into the world. "Where's your Nan?" 

JJ's eyes brimmed with tears and he shook his head. He turned and indicated through the window of the IC. Harper looked in. The machines had been deactivated, the tubes removed.

Charlotte's body lay cold in the bed.

Harper's legs gave and he fell to the floor, gasping for breath. His lungs heaved and the room spun dizzyingly.

Charlotte…

His Charlotte…

Once again, he had not said goodbye…

****

Forward Another Six Years…

"Kelly Marie Turner," the priest intoned, "who was born Kelly Marie Harper…Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…"

And Harper wept.

****

Forward Thirty-Eight Years…

John's mouth twitched into a smile as Harper took his hand. The sight was bitter to them both. The grandfather's skin remained smooth and young, his grandson's withered and wrinkled with age.

The world was upside down.

Harper kissed his forehead, remembering the beautiful blonde headed boy he used to tuck into this bed.

"I can see…mother." John whispered.

Harper kissed him again, his tears falling into John's deeply furrowed brow. He had once seen the Light that awaited on the Other Side. A love and a comfort that would forever be denied him.

"Go to her."

John's head moved just slightly to indicate 'no.' "Can't leave you."

Harper's thoughts were bitter. They all do, in the end.

In the morning, he was dead…

****

Forward…

****

But any time is meaningless now.

Harper swigged on the bottle of neat vodka. The harsh drink almost made him gag, but he didn't care. He had given up caring a long time ago.

And as a result, his family, one by one, year by year had given up caring about _him._

Accept one. 

His nineteen year old great-great-God knows how many times great grandson, Alexander, who was watching him now, drowning in more than just alcohol.

"I think you've had enough, Seamus!" Alexander said.

Harper handed him the bottle, "c'mon, kid, join the party."

"There's no party, its just you." He looked at him worriedly, "Grandpa, this isn't doing you any good."

He roared with laughter, "yeah, 'cause its gonna kill me." He poured the boy a drink, "here."

"I'm not gonna drink with you."

"Your loss." And he took the glass and downed the measure in one gulp.

"I came to take you home."

"Home…" Harper looked up, his eyes glazed with drink, but still thoughtful. "Do you know where my home is? My real home?"

Confused, Alexander shook his head.

"There." He said, pointing to the vodka. "At the bottom of a bottle."

His grandson was silent for a long time, watching his ancestor. Then he stood up. "Goodbye, Grandpa." He murmured.

The finality in his voice told Harper all he needed to know. He had pushed them all away; he had no one left.

He never saw Alexander again.

****

Forward…

Decades turned to centuries. People entered his life, or were born into it, but Time would take them. Some quickly, others slowly. So much pain…

And the Ones came and went. 

The Eternals prediction rang in his mind_. **"He will know only sorrow."**_

And he did, closely, intimately. It was his friend, his confidant…and his torturer.

The Strings that coiled outward from him were sickly and tangled. Their birth, under his guidance, was pale and weak, a mere shadow of what they would have been under another.

Atlas held the Universe on his shoulders. Harper was but a man. A man who could not face his endless future, steeped so deeply in sorrow that he began to let his own blood to release it.

And then, amid the darkness that consumed him, came darker still…


	15. Fifteen - Flashes of a Future Past (Forw...

Fifteen ~ Flashes of a Future Past (Forward/Back VII)

Author's note: My thanks to Michelle for proof reading and pointing out a few wrinkles that needed ironing out.

****

Fifteen ~ Flashes of a Future Past (Forward/Back VII)

Harper was drunk that day. There weren't many days, now, that he wasn't, but he didn't care. The universe thought too highly of sobriety. They didn't understand, but Harper did.

He understood that there were some things in this universe better hidden and buried, like his past…and the choices that had been made, both by him and for him. And he also understood that being alive and living were two different things, and although Harper was condemned to the first for all of eternity, he had a choice in the second. 

And he chose not to live, but to hide-- in a bar, inside a bottle, or lately something stronger.

A sweet voice broke into his thoughts. "What'll it be?" 

He didn't look up at the waitress, but pointed at the empty bottle. "'Nother one o' thossse." He slurred.

"I think you've had enough, sir." She replied with a lilting voice. "How about I get you a Fryta Juice?"

"Jus' gemme 'nother, OK?"

"I can't serve you more alcohol, I'm sorry."

"Sure ya can. Ya go to the bar an' pick up a bottle." He flashed her what he thought was a dashing grin, but was really a drunken leer. "They'll be a 20 in it for ya."

Through the haze of alcohol, he was oblivious to the nervousness of the waitress. She didn't want any trouble. "The bar has a limit, sir, and you've reached it."

"Yeah, well I havva limit too, and I ain't anywhere near it, so bring me 'nother freakin' drink!"

"I'm sorry, I'd lose my job."

"C'mon, jus' one, eh?"

"I can't…"

He dug into his pocket, "I'll make it 40." He grabbed her wrist with one hand to push the notes into her palm with his other, but the waitress cried out in alarm.

A tingle ran across his skin the moment he made contact with hers. He gasped, partly in reaction, but mostly out of horror of the fear on the woman's face.

Fear of _him_…

He let go immediately, "I...I'm sorry, I…I didn't…" Disgust flooded his entire body. What had he become? He forced himself to his feet, legs shaking badly, barely able to support his body, and ran blindly for the door.

*****

He returned two days later; pulled as much by the Gift as the first flush of life he'd felt in almost a century. The tingle he'd experienced was unmistakable, and yet, he didn't think she was a One. There was no greatness in her future; the Strings did not demand her to shape them. Still, she was special. 

He had waited until the headache and nausea passed, until he could think clearly again before heading back. A thrill ran through him as he walked in the door, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a very long time. 

He felt…._alive_.

The waitress was busy collecting glasses when he entered and didn't see him approach. He settled at one of the tables and took the time to study her closely. She was Ilition, he realised, something he had been too drunk to notice before. Like the rest of her race, she looked fairly human. The only noticeable differences were the delicate elf-like ears and the soft orange cat eyes. Her skin was pale, her lips paler still. She was, by human standards, at least, quite attractive. But he also saw the whitish markings curling across her nose and cheeks that spoke otherwise, by Ilition ideals. She was from the Hushla caste, one of the very lowest, menial families. That explained why she was working here.

As she came closer, he repeated the carefully planned apology over again in his head.

"What'll it…oh."

He opened his mouth and the speech he'd prepared vanished from his mind. _One too many benders, Seamus,_ he told himself.

"It's…um….I…"

"Gin, isn't it? Straight, no ice, no slice?"

"No, I…I gave it up."

She snorted in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know ya musta heard that hundred times. But I, er…" He looked down, "I wanna be the one who's tellin' the truth, y'know?" He looked up, forcing a smile, "beside, I gotta try that juice thing, what was it?"

"Fryta juice."

"Yeah, that sounds….actually that sounds disgusting, but, ya gotta try it."

After a moment's consideration, the waitress broke into a grin, "OK." 

A few minutes later, she brought him a tall glass filled with a deep red concoction, topped with bits of fruit. He took a sip and discovered it wasn't all that bad. Either that or the last 100-year near continuous pub-crawl had killed just about every taste bud in his mouth.

The waitress turned to go.

"Wait," he called after her, "what's your name?"

Doubt crossed her features a moment before she smiled, "Aalana. And your?"

"Would you believe me if I said you're destiny?"

She laughed. "No."

"Then you'd better let me buy you one of these when you finish work so I can convince you."

****

Forward…

The moon was a solid disk above them, glowing brightly in the bitter night sky. They lay on the cold grasslands of Ka, one of the most beautiful planets of the Outer Rim worlds. Aalana shivered and moved closer to Harper, pressing against him for warmth. Smiling, she reached out and linked her left hand with his right, lacing their fingers. The bracelet glittered dully in the moonlight, drawing Aalana's eyes. Her fingertips moved to trace along his skin, watching his flesh goose pimple in response, until they touched the delicate script on the silvery metal.

"It's beautiful." She said, propping herself up on one elbow to look at it more closely. "Where did you get it?"

Harper felt his chest tighten. "It…I was given it…by a…" he smiled, "by a friend."

Her fingers followed the curve of the writing. "What does that say?"

"I'm not sure." His voice betrayed some dark emotion she couldn't identify. "Somethin' about the Gift…" He stopped, "I mean, about it _bein'_ a gift, you know, from my friend."

She didn't seem to notice his slip. "Happy Birthday, Seamus?" 

"Somethin' like that." He looked at her, feeling again the tingle he'd experienced the first time he'd touched her. 

But now he knew the nature of that sensation. She _was_ a One…but she was also _the _One. The one to whom he would one day give his Gift. His heart had quickened at the revelation; it felt light and unburdened. He had not been this happy in over 350 years.

He kissed her lips. "I'll give it to you one day."

She laughed, "What for? My hand in marriage?"

He kissed her again to hide his sadness. "You'll see," he whispered.

****

Forward…

The years with Aalana were bright, full of simple joys he'd long forgotten, tinged only by the sadness that she would live under the curse of forever, that her existence would become as painful as his had been. But he also knew that the genetically more advanced Ilition's would make better Eternals than he could ever be. Living for centuries was not new to them. Most could live beyond 200. The Strings would be safe in her hands.

He felt the call of the Eternals four years later, and an elderly One, Stevna, entered his life. A sickly, old man on a quest to bring the Way to the unbelievers of the poverty-stricken Outer Rim. His journey led the three of them to the ravaged people of Niprah. In many respects, his time with Stevna brought him full circle. He had been born amid poverty and violence, helpless in the face of such overwhelming hardship. Now, older than he would ever thought he would be or even than he had a right to be, he could intervene. He could help steer the thin, dispossessed children of Niprah towards something that would give them a sense of hope and courage. It gave him peace and contentment, a feeling he had never really known. 

He could face the Night with joy…

******

The Ilition attacked the main encampment at dawn. The scattered human settlers awoke to the sounds of weapon fire and the terrified screams of the Niprah villagers. Harper flung back the covers of his make shift bed and grabbed his Blaster. His heart raced as he ran from the bio-tent and towards the terrible cries. A thousand memories of his childhood rose up and battered his senses. He shook his head violently to rid himself of the images. He didn't need his ghosts cluttering his thinking. He needed to act. He didn't need to feel.

A woman came running towards him, screaming in terror and agonising pain. He saw the flesh of her right arm had been bathed in the super-heated silicon the Ilition weapons fired. He grabbed her and pushed her into the cold dirt, forcing her arm into the earth, telling her over and over that it was going to be OK. 

Even though he knew it wasn't.

The silicon burned into his palms, leeching through his skin, tendons and muscles in a matter of moments. His breathing came raggedly from the pain, but he knew that the damage was nothing the Gift couldn't take care of.

The woman's eyes began to glaze over as the poisons in the silicon flooded her organs. She jerked stiffly and began fitting violently. He held her as steadily as he could, watching foam fleck her mouth until she gave a high pitched cry and fainted.

Another villager fell to her side. A Niprah woman named Corinne. Harper looked up at her. No, not a woman, she was just a kid, barely seventeen, but she was the only one.

"Get her inside the tent." He yelled, "but don't touch her wounds!"

The girl nodded and began dragging the woman away. Harper didn't take a moment to watch to see if they were safe, he didn't have the time. Tightening his grip on his weapon, he ran wildly towards the sounds of gunfire. The noise became louder and louder the further into the encampment he got. The Ilition was attacking the water reserves and power generators at the farthest point of the village. As he came closer, he saw a swarm of villagers were using what little weapons they had to defend their homes against the superior might of the Ilition ground troopers. Harper remembered all too well the horror and futility of fighting them. Dylan had never really recovered, inside, from the Andromeda's first loss against them. In truth, the newly restored Commonwealth had died that day. History would record that fateful moment when the sky turned to ashes, and the Andromeda shattered into dust as the end, but Harper knew better. They had lost the war even before it had started.

In the quiet destruction of Dylan's heart and soul… 

Harper forced the memories away and scanned the crowds for the grey shape of Stevna. His eyes caught on the Dellen, standing weapon-less at the centre of the fighting, preying for the fallen, and for the fighters. Harper's heart leapt when he saw Aalana at the old man's side, swinging her plasma sword, cutting down anyone who tried to harm Stevna, and deflecting the fire of any snipers who tried to shoot him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight. This, truly, was why the Ilition's had won. She was magnificent, born to fight with lightening reflects. And she was one of the lowest castes.

Their eyes met amid the chaos.

"Harper!" She yelled. She knew it was a mistake two mili-seconds after he did. In calling out, she had shifted her attention if only a fraction of a fraction. But it was enough to lower her defences. The discharge hit her in the stomach, the round eating away at her flesh even before she hit the ground.

"Aalana!" He screamed, barely hearing his own voice over the wild beat of his heart. Harper pushed his way through the masses, taking several blows to his body in his haste. The pain came as something detached from the rest of him.

It was time…

And it was a terrible realisation.

He threw himself beside Aalana, tears falling from his eyes. This was the moment he had been waiting for, for so long. And yet it wasn't the relief he'd once believed it to be. It was bitter, deep and raw. Death had come for her, but it would instead take him. 

And she would know the pain of a forever life.

__

Night must fall, Harper. The words whispered in the back of his mind, but he couldn't tell if they came from his own numbed mind or from the Eternals.

He took Aalana's left forearm in his right hand, using his other hand to curl her fingers about his arm. Their wrists barely touched held apart by the thin metal band around Harper's arm.

Harper screwed up his eyes and willed the Gift to transfer and save her life.

But nothing happened…

__

Oh God… Oh God… Oh God… Oh God… Oh God…How do you do this?

He didn't know.

He DIDN'T KNOW.

He shook their linked arms frantically, choking on his own sobs. "Go damn you!" He searched the sky desperately. But the Eternals were silent. "She's dying!"

Stevna knelt at Harper's side and cupped his head in his bony hand. He stroked his hair. "Shh…" he murmured, "there is nothing you can do. She's gone."

Harper pushed the old man away and pulled Aalana into his arms, rocking her. He shifted their joined arms, his movements frantic and full of desperation, and squeezing shut his eyes, he called on all his blind abilities to push the Gift into her.

The battle raged around him, villagers forming a circle around them, ready to give their lives to save their beloved Wayist and his disciples. But Harper paid no attention to their bravery. Felt no shame at making them suffer needlessly in his place.

One man tried to pull them out of the fighting to somewhere safer, but he pushed him away and clung tighter to Aalana. He tried over and over to force his Gift into her already cold, stiff flesh, but there was nothing he could do.

A Niprah solider spoke to Stevna, breaking the narrow world that had formed around Harper. "The shuttle's here, Old Man, you'd better get your friend up now, we're not waiting."

Stevna nodded to the solider and took Harper's arm, "I'll help you carry her."

"Sorry," the man shook his head, "shuttle's overloaded as it is, and we ain't takin' the dead."

Stevna nodded, understanding.

"Seamus, we must go!"

Harper pulled away.

"Ah, shit!" The solider swore. "There's always one." And he lifted his gun and cracked it across Harper's head. He slumped down unconscious. "Now you can get him on the shuttle."

When he woke, the world had shattered…

****

Forward…

He walked in his sleep, dripping blood. His wrists slashed to the bone, oozing sticky red, leaving trails in his wake. Soon he would be empty; death would claim him.

But he would still awaken in the morning. Renewed, reborn, without even a trace of a scar.

Yet he still tried every night, hoping beyond hope, that this time it would be different that this time he would not wake up.

*****

There were two voices, one deep, the other full of gravel. "What is his name?" Deep. 

"Just another John Doe." Gravel. "There wasn't any identification on the body. We're running DNA matches at the moment, but judging from the currency in his pockets, he's one of the evacuees from the Outer Rim so I doubt his helix would be on file. One thing I did notice was this."

"Hmm, looks like an old fashioned cerebral jack."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. That thing can't be functional, though. Doubt if there's any equipment it would work with."

"Looks like its been upgraded a thousand times, so its possible. Could be the fashion. Kids'll wear anything these days."

"Yeah, tell me about it. You should see what my daughter wears some days."

Something beeped. "There are no narcotics in his system but I'll take blood samples anyway."

"I wish you luck. There can't be much left in there."

A pause. "I'm reading normal blood capacity."

"Doc, the rate this guy was bleeding, there can't be enough in him to fill a teaspoon."

Another pause this time filled with the sounds of fingers tapping onto a screen. "I'm not reading any glitches."

"Then your 'frame needs an overhaul. This guys been lying in a pool of blood so large you'd think it was the Red Sea." He laughed at his own joke. 

A frosty pause and then… "Well, Officer, if you'll come with me I'll get you the papers to sign." 

******

Harper opened his eyes to darkness. He reached out. His knuckles hit metal casing, not four inches above his nose. He was cold, almost frozen.

He was in a morgue.

Harper yelled out.

So did the mortician.

As well as the owners of the two voices when they returned. 

******

"Here, son, its water." The man held out a glass with a brightly coloured straw sticking out. "Sip it slow, it'll make you feel better." 

Sweet flooded his mouth when he drank. The man had added some sugar.

"You were lucky they found you." He said, and watched as the glass empty. Then he put it away. "I'm going to help you, son, whether you want me to or not." He took a breath. "My name is Pierce, Dr Pierce."

The doctor waited a moment, and then touched his patient's chin. "You don't have to tell me you're name right out, but I need to call you something. How about Justin? That's written all over your files. Just in time to stop you dying, just in time to stop you freezing." The doctor chuckled.

And something sparked inside his patient, flickered, responding to something he recognised. Humour in the face of despair and overwhelming odds.

******

Doctor Pierce sipped at his tea and stared at the computer screen that held Justin's slim file, cataloguing only his age which they had gathered from his DNA scan, the location and time he was found and his disorder. "Severe depression." Which was an unctuous umbrella term for just about any and all mental illnesses. Pierce disliked the term 'mental illness'; it was seemingly derogatory, labelling people as crazy when in fact all that was wrong was a little too much, too fast. A lot of understanding, and maybe a little medication and even the severest problem could be tackled given time and effort.

Justin needed a lot of both. He was violent when not sedated, not to others but to himself. He rarely spoke beyond simple replies, usually 'yes' and 'no'. When he spoke more, the words came out so fast, with such manic, desperate speed he would have to be put under again to prevent him from having a seizure.

But despite everything Pierce knew about him, he liked the man. Even under the dulling affects of a sedative his eyes were intelligent, and he seemed to appreciate the doctor's jokes. 

There were so many questions about the young man, not the least of which was why he wanted to end his own life. This was no mere cry for help, Pierce had long ago realised; this man really and truly wanted to die. Desperately. The doctor had never witnessed such want before. It frightened him and he didn't know why.

Another question burned almost as brightly. Justin had a data port in his neck, technology that was over 400 years old. Why would anyone want such an antiquated and dangerous device installed when there were any number of more efficient and much safer alternatives? His colleagues had concluded that this was simply another facet of his self-destructive nature, but Pierce wasn't so sure. 

It wasn't long before he changed his mind.

*****

Pierce looked into the cell and saw red. Red everywhere… slicked across the floor, sprayed in droplets on the pale walls, soaking into the sheets on which Justin lay. The young man was pale and lifeless, crumpled in a boneless heap. In one hand, glinting in the light was a carefully constructed knife. And on the other arm…

Words had been painfully carved into his flesh.

Pierce hit the alarms and fumbled to open the cell. When he reached the man's side, he pulled him upright, elevating his wrists and pressing down on the deep cuts.

And all the while the words mocked him.

__

One _more_ _try_…

He felt for a pulse. There was none. This time, he had succeeded.

******

His wife hated it when he bought his work home. And she'd frowned when she had seen the tiredness and pain on his face. But she'd hugged him all the same after he told her Justin was dead.

"I know you really wanted to help him." She whispered, kissing his cheek. But she left it at that, not wanting him to talk more about such depressing things. He understood her feelings and ate his dinner in silence. 

It was just as he was finishing that the external comm bleeped. He touched the control and his assistant's face popped up on the holo.

"What is it, John?" He asked.

His colleague looked pale and shocked. "It's…its Justin…"

Pierce nodded sadly, "I know. I was the one who found him. There was nothing anyone could have done."

"No, you don't understand. Justin's alive! He just…just woke up!"

******

He didn't believe it until he saw it, but it was true. Justin WAS alive and sitting up in bed, completely healed, his eyes full of bitter disappointment. Pierce gave him a full psychical, but couldn't find anything to suggest that he'd been dead only hours before.

And he refused to even acknowledge the doctor's presence.

"Doctor Pierce?"

He turned. Three men stood in the doorway. One was obviously an official, the other two medical officers of some kind.

"Yes?"

"I am Professor Belize, from the Gaul Institute."

"I've heard old you."

The man seemed pleased, "I came here to confirm the Justin story."

Pierce felt a chill. "It's true."

"Fascinating! Absolutely fascinating! We have long theorised that Immortality is possible. Think of the benefits to mankind!"

"Justin doesn't feel it's a benefit. You are aware that he has been trying to end his life?"

"Yes, yes. But you have to consider the bigger picture."

"No, I don't. I'm a psychiatrist, the only picture I care about is Justin."

"Perhaps so." He reached into his coat, "however, I have transfer papers for Justin, signed by the Proctor for this entire system, to move him to my Institute."

"I cannot allow this! Justin is suffering from severe depression and prone to self-harming. He needs to be treated, not turned into a lab rat!"

"You cannot refuse."

"I am still head of this-"

"Security!" The man yelled over him.

Two guards entered the cell and grabbed Pierce while the medical officer's knelt beside the bed and forced Justin into a jacket. Then they pulled him roughly to his feet.

The last glimpse Pierce had was of Justin's uncaring eyes.

******

It was hot in the room, the air hot and sweaty. Harper could barely breathe…

Barely move…

Delusions swam before his eyes and he thought he could see his children playing in the sand, alive and beautiful, young and fresh.

And then his heart stopped…

******

Voices… "Incredible! His cells are completely regenerating. Imagine the possibilities!"

"Sir, he's coming to."

"Get the syringe."

"Filled with what?"

"Air."

He opened his eyes and a needle descended. He opened his mouth to scream as he felt it slice into him.

And his heart stopped….

****

Forward…

It would never end. The pain was constant and he would beg them for release, but they did not hear his pleas. The needles stabbed, fire burned his flesh, and acid ate at his bones. Everything was pain; everything was death.

And he kept coming back…

******

Something shifted in the Strings. Harper's body reacted to the sudden static. His eyes snapped open.

Another One was coming for him.

He licked his lips, trying to concentrate on the illusive sensation. 

__

How? Where?

He needed to go, but he was trapped here.

__

I can't…

A screaming pain lanced trough his head, an ache that almost split his skull in two in its intensity.

He clutched his temples, curling into a ball.

Would it never end?

******

That was when they gave him the drugs. They thought they were helping him, trying to take the pain away. But all it took was his conscious thought, his ability to think.

He couldn't escape the call of the Eternals. And he couldn't escape the need to follow where his Gift wanted him to go.

It came as a cresting wave of pain, building slowly, throbbing to a peak before receding momentarily to build again.

And again…and again…

There was only one clear thought amid the drug-induced stupor and the sickening ache. It echoed over and over at the back of his mind.

__

I want to die…. I want to die…. I want to die….

But his pleas went unanswered.

And then a spark ignited: a light in the darkness that would preserve his sanity. It was a sudden, brilliant flame.

His hatred of Trance was borne…

****

Forward…

The years passed and the Gift never stopped screaming --a cry he could not shut out, or answer.

Whoever 'they' had been, they died a quick mortal death, leaving him to feel bitter envy. Even his tormentors were granted peace. He became just cargo, to be bought and sold as a curiosity, or bequeathed in a Will like so much property.

He doubted he could survive on his own and didn't care to try. The drugs he'd been fed over the years kept the terrible pain to a minimum, but also dulled his spirit. He no longer felt he was Harper. He was Justin, a thing--a problem. 

He lost track of the years, and eventually his memories. The past was so faint now it was as if his youth, and his years on the Andromeda, were nothing more than a tantalising dream. He had always been here; he had always been Justin. And he had always been in pain.

******

He called the place he ended up 'The Asylum' for want of anything better. He didn't know quite what this huge clinical house was, and no one had bothered to explain it to him.

But it didn't matter. It was a calm place, with pastel walls and soothing music tinkling in the background. The staff, despite being overworked, was kind and quiet. They left him in peace, which was all he'd ever wanted.

Harper had not known peace in so very long. He should have known it wouldn't last.

"Seamus?"

He opened his eyes, the image before him blurring under the influence of the drugs he'd been given. The haze wove and spun and he squinted, concentrating hard. His vision cleared.

It was Trance…

******

One purple finger reached out and traced across his cheek, over the crest of his nose and came to rest on his lips. She looked as young and as fresh as the day they had met, her eyes full of child like innocence. She was so special… 

And, centuries ago, a touch from her like that would have made his chest tighten and his heart race, now it was like dead flesh creeping across his skin. His bitterness and anger collapsed into one lucid emotion, pushing past his lips with shocking speed.

"BITCH!"

She recoiled in horror, and then visibly forced herself to relax. She reached out and gently stroked his forehead. "Shh…" She hushed him; "I've come to take you home."

Her voice sounded…different. But his anger rose up to overtake his curiosity. _Home_?

"I'm going to get you out of here."

"Out?" He whispered, with a tongue that felt it was made from lead. His head was so muddled, but his emotions… They were clear and untainted, pure of intent. His hate was stronger than his body would ever be. 

She avoided his hating eyes and brushed his cheek with a soft purple hand, stroking gently. "Shh…" And she encircled him in her arms, "rest…it's OK. Everything's gonna be OK."

******

His mind wandered sometime afterwards, although he could hear her negotiating, her voice high, and laced with poorly disguised anger. She was bargaining with his keepers, he realised. Buying him like the piece of meat he'd long ago decided he was. Terror shot through him at the thought of leaving. He'd been here how long? Five, maybe six decades living as 'Justin' because no one had thought to ask him his real name and he hadn't cared enough to give it voluntarily. It was an existence, not living, being poked and prodded and examined like a lab rat.

He had no soul anymore, no persona, no life…

No freedom…

But he didn't care. 

And now he was being made to care. Being made to leave this safe and colourless existence.

Money changed hands loudly. Someone yelled about being disgusted and a jumble of angry words followed, then harsh, ugly laughter.

Harper jolted like he'd been electrocuted when Trance pulled her Blaster and fired at his keeper's feet. "BACK OFF!" She demanded. He blinked at her in the laughter that followed, he had rarely seen her even hold a gun, let alone fire one. Then she took his arm to pull him away. A shiver ran through him, her touch was ugly to him now. She met his eyes in surprise but made him walk anyway.

******

Her ship was a small, sleek family cruiser, about half the size of the Maru. It was old by this time's standard, but still far and away better than anything the Maru had to offer. The room she led him to was surprisingly spacious, with its own bathing area tucked at the back. The bed was large and comfortable with a pile of new clothes at the centre.

Harper looked about, bewildered. His cell at the Asylum had been so spare that this room seemed overly bright and garish by comparison.

"Take a bath and get some sleep, OK? I've got to go back and get some of your stuff, but I'll be back soon."

He stared at her purple face and allowed himself to feel every ounce of his hatred for her. Her eyes lowered to escape his accusations and she took a step back. He found her fear brought him no satisfaction.

She turned to leave and sealed the door behind her. She might have offered him freedom, but it seemed as if he were no less a prisoner here either. He walked to the bed and sank down, his anger dying away. Sorrow rushed in to fill its absence.

Trance….

He bit down hard on his lip. That was the past. He took a breath and stood, and then he mechanically followed the orders he'd been given. It was what he did, what he'd done for so very long.

He had no freedom; he had no life…

But even now, he didn't care.

******

He awoke terrified. Afraid of the sudden changes Trance had brought him and the uncertainty of that freedom. He had been in his cell for so long; told what to do, knowing what each day would bring. Years and years of subservience... how would he live?

Tears welled up and sobs wracked his chest. He cried himself into exhaustion, and fell into a fitful sleep.

******

He smelt food the next time he awoke. A tray of steaming breakfast sat on the bedside unit. His mouth watered at the glorious smells filling the air. It was real food, not the pale slop they served at the Asylum. 

He sat up and pulled the tray onto his lap and picked up a slice of hot, buttered toast. He chewed furiously on it as if it might disappear. He finished everything, every last grain of rice in the kedgeree. Then he looked for his meds. There was the usual glass of water beside his bed, but no little bowl of pills.

No medication…

He felt suddenly sick and panicked and he clutched his stomach, terrified the breakfast would come back up. 

No medication…

He _needed_ it… The headaches would return. He could already feel the pull of the Eternals at the back of his mind, pushing, tugging at him. Pain lanced through his skull, half-real, half remembered. He pressed his hands to his temples and fell back on the bed, writhing in agony.

Harper screamed.

******

Footsteps sounded through the haze of pain. Hands touched him and he whimpered. He knew who it was. He knew it was Trance. 

"You bitch!" He spat and wriggled away from her, kicking out. His foot connected with solid flesh and he heard her give a cry as she fell to the floor with a thud.

She climbed jerkily to her feet and went to touch him, her lips dribbling blood. "Seamus?" 

He jerked away as if she would burn him.

"BITCH!"

She fell silent for a moment, then murmured, "I wanna help you."

"Help?" He echoed, looking up at her with dead eyes. "No one can…"

"I will… I promise."

"Why?"

She frowned, not understanding.

"Why the promise? You can't keep it. You can't take back the past."

"No, but…" She swallowed down, "but it…could…" She looked away, "…stop."

A wave of despair ran through him and he realised that somewhere in there, he had felt hope at her words. Another reason to hate Trance…

"No…" He whispered, sinking down onto the bed. "No one can. Not even me…"

"I swear to you!"

He looked up; "her name was Aalana… But I couldn't give her the Gift. She died…and now I never will. I'm stuck with it." Anger laced his voice, "I've never hated anyone…" he gave a hollow laugh, "accept myself…until you."

She backed away, wiping the blood from her mouth and the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. The door closed behind her. He watched her leave then curled up tighter. 

"I love you, I hate you…" Bitter tears welled up and he let them come.

There was a kind of peace in his sobbing. It washed over him, cocooning him in his misery. Nothingness surrounded him and he was lost to it.

Time passed; how long he would never be sure, and then…

"Shh…it's OK." Someone murmured in his ear, and gentle hands manoeuvred him until his cheek rested against a smooth and lightly scented shoulder. "You're free, Seamus."

He let the comfort flood him but eventually he stirred enough to ask, "who are you?" His vision blurred again, and cleared. He smiled and knew she was right everything _was_ OK.

"Does it matter?" Beka answered him.

He wanted to tell her yes, but he was too tired. 

******

He let her tend him, just like he had let them 'tend' him at the Asylum, but her attention was different. He didn't question it and did as she asked. Letting her pull him from the bed and tug his clothes off to bathe, or watch him while he ate, or give him quick, shy hugs when she felt he needed them.

All the while, she was talking with a soft, vaguely accented voice. He couldn't concentrate on her words, but the tone was reassuring. A need was growing, gnawing at his stomach. An empty, hollow craving…

Medication… 

It soon caved into desperation and panic filled him. It began as nothing more than a cold sweat, then shivers, then he was possessed with bone-deep trembling and he began to vomit.

He didn't just need…

He _was_ need.

Beka stayed with him, in the room, by the toilet, sometimes in the bed. She was always close, as she had been once before, just after he'd joined the Maru's crew and his first space borne virus had taken hold of him. He found comfort in her presence, coming to know her smell like a baby knows it mothers.

And in his brief, lucid moments, he would wonder how she and Trance could come to rescue him four centuries after their deaths…

****

Forward…

She was gone. Harper sat up and scanned the room with his eyes, his heart racing. She had taken to sleeping at his side, knowing his night terrors lessened when he wasn't alone. He was so used to her being there that waking to find her missing panicked him.

"B-Beka?" His own voice sounded strange to him, dry and cracked. It had been so long since he'd spoken.

He slipped from the bed, his legs weak and he found he had to hold the wall to keep from falling. The door was open; the first time it had ever been so. He wobbled slowly towards it, using the bed and the wall for balance.

He looked out. He dimly remembered the corridors from when Trance had brought him here, but everything else was a haze. He would never find his way alone.

But he needed to find Beka…

Left or right?

The left corridor ended in a ladder well, and the right was a darkened corridor. He knew he'd never be able to climb like this, but the dark…

…Scared him.

"Be-ka!" He called out and coughed at the effort. A tremble ran through him and he wanted nothing more than to collapse back onto the bed.

The empty bed…

He didn't want to be alone.

He stumbled towards the ladder, silently praying for the grav lifts to have been installed on such a small craft.

"Seamus?"

He turned in surprise and almost fell. Arms immediately caught him around the waist and he collapsed into the familiar smell.

"You…gone…"

She smiled at him. "I had to adjust the course settings. We're almost there."

He met her eyes and saw they were brown. "Where…is there?"

"You'll see." She pulled him back into the room, "c'mon, lets have breakfast."

******

The days passed more quickly after that, and she would often leave his side despite his protests. And she always gave the same excuse. "I have to make some course adjustments." But she never answered his questions about where they were going.

He grew stronger every day, until she felt he was well enough to watch some data casts. She also brought him transparencies on current events. It made grim reading. But the access broadcasts were what angered him the most. Much had changed in the 60 or so years he'd been contained. The Ilition had decided some time ago that it was now an Empire.

The Ilition Empire…

This was not the vision Dylan had given Harper all those years ago of a future of peace and prosperity. This…this was _wrong_.

Dylan's life… His death…had no meaning. This Gift inside of him screamed at the injustice of his wasted potential. And Harper's own long held belief in his commander, which even now wept at his loss, was impotent with rage.

"You're looking better."

He looked up at the sound of her voice. A wave of sadness filled him at the sight of her messy auburn curls and deep brown eyes. She wasn't Beka.

She was a stranger.

"Hey, you OK?"

He shook himself to dispel the disappointment. He'd guessed, long ago, it wasn't possible. Grieving over the loss of a delusion seemed…hollow…

"I…I can't believe it's so…changed."

"I almost didn't show you some of that. It's not pretty reading."

"I'm glad you did." He watched her sit beside him, her movements so familiar to him now. And so like Beka… 

She shrugged. "Didn't wanna lie to you, y'know?"

"Thank you." He picked up a transparency, his fingers curling around it fiercely. "Makes me remember who I am. Or what I should be." He looked down at the thin metal band around his wrist and murmured to himself, "what Trance wanted me to be…"

If she heard him, she gave no mention, "I came to tell you that we're here."

He looked up, "here?"

She smiled, "your destiny, Seamus."

******

The Hivari nebula coiled in on itself, like a tangle of undergrowth. Electrical activity crackled along its nebulous clouds, the blue and red flashes playing and dancing in the white milky dust.

"Its beautiful."

She nodded, "but deadly. Makes everything seem…I don't know, pointless. Our lives are just so small compared to that."

He cracked a smile, his first in so very long. "Speak for yourself, Kid."

She laughed, "its good to know you got your sense of humour back."

A touch of surprise flashed through him and he frowned. "How did you…" he looked at her, "who are you?"

"Does it matter?"

His voice was strong. "Yes."

"I'm your friend."

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to do what friends do." She met his eyes; "I'm going to give you your dearest wish."

He laughed, but not unkindly. "And what's that?"

"Your death…." And then she told him _how_…

******

Harper modified the pod himself, arguing that he knew the technology better than she. He felt alive as he worked, using his natural ability and innate flair to see beyond the simple plans she'd given him. He guessed that was morbid, feeling alive at making preparations for death.

His death…

Her idea was simple. The unique Electro-magnetic fields of the nebula could rip apart molecules from even the densest of matter, therefore his body should be easy. All he had to do was fly deep enough into the clouds that he could be certain nothing was left to reassemble. He had asked how she was going to make sure the pod would stay together for the journey, but all she had said was _'don't worry. That's covered.'_

But he did worry. He wanted this to work.

He was at home among the craft's components, with their cold familiarity and crisp logistics. Home…after so long. Sometimes it felt too good to be true.

The days stretched into weeks, a wonderful, beautiful passage of time spent in the company of machinery. He still called her 'Beka' for want of a name. She worked at his side, almost as if she were the real Beka and he was surprised by her aptitude and ability to keep up with him when he was thinking sometimes ten or eleven moves ahead. She would have made one hell of an engineer.

They had been on the edge of the nebula for almost 3 whole months before the pod was satisfactory and, when they both felt it was ready, they stood side-by-side, ready to say goodbye.

'Beka' held a bottle of champagne in one hand and tapped it nervously against her leg. "What are you going to call her?"

"It's a pod."

"She still deserves a name."

He shrugged, "OK, the SS Pod."

"Very original. You want to do the honours?" She asked, feigning smashing the bottle against the pod's hull with her empty hand.

"Don't you christen ships for good journeys?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, "don't you want a good journey?"

"I'm figuring death counts as a bad journey."

"Your probably right. You want to drink it instead?"

"Sure." He took the bottle and fiddled with the foil and wire. A moment later the cork popped off loudly and bounced off the little crafts' hull. Harper took a swig, and gagged. "That's disgusting!"

"I thought you were gonna crack it on the pod. I wasn't going to get the good stuff for you to spill all over your coffin."

He laughed and handed her the bottle. "Baby, I love you!" He pulled out his scoring pen and scribbled something on the pod's hull.

"HMS Coffin? That's sick!"

"I'm a sick kinda guy."

She nodded in agreement and swigged on the bottle. She made a face, "oh God, you're right, that's awful."

Smiling, he scribbled something else; something he knew she wouldn't be able to read. Something only another Eternal, or a certain purple babe would be able to read.

"What does that say?"

He grinned, "its another sick joke."

"Huh?"

He ran his finger along the writing, reading as he went. "May the Light (and Trance) have mercy upon my souls…this time."

"You have a plural soul?"

"I'm guessing I have more than one."

Her smile fell away and the atmosphere changed so dramatically, he could feel it. "Because you've lived so long…or because of the Immortality?"

He felt shock ricochet through him and he drew a breath. He forced himself to be calm, he had known, at least logically, that she had to know all about him.

But how…?

She smiled at the unasked question; "I'm your friend, Seamus. I always will be. Friends know everything about each other."

"You keep saying that, but we're not. We can't be. You said 'each other'; I don't know anything about you. I don't even know your real name."

She looked away, "it doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't!"

"Seamus…"

"Why are you even helping me?"

"I'm-"

"And don't say it's because we're friends!"

"You call me 'Beka'. You've even called me 'Trance'… What's in a name, Seamus?"

"I was ill. I thought…I thought I could see them."

"And now?"

"Now I see you." He threw his hands up, "but what the hell, maybe you're a delusion too. Or they were real and you're the hallucination. Maybe this whole set-up is one big illusion and I'll wake up and know I'm never gonna get out!"

She looked down at her feet, obviously fighting some inner war. "Leia…" She whispered finally.

He strained to hear her. "What?"

"Leia…my name is Leia." She tried to smile and failed. "I just liked being Beka, she's…she was quite a legend."

"How can you know that?" His tone was sharp. "And about me?"

"I…I read the history books."

"My immortality isn't in any of them."

"No."

An alarm bleeped maniacally and Leia looked relieved. "The Ions have reached their plateau phase. If you're going…"

He looked out of the airlock to the tumbling skies beyond. Then he turned back to her. "Thank you…. Leia."

She avoided his eyes, "good luck…or bad, I guess."

"Yeah."

He wanted desperately to hug her, but found his arms were immobile.

"You'll need this." She said, and bent down beside her tool bag. She pulled out a dusty ball and stood back up. 

Harper felt a shiver of fear run through him at the sight of the orb. "It's a Haal Stone…"

"It'll energise the crafts molecular structure and keep it from disintegrating too early." This was how she intended on keeping the craft together.

He took it from her, feeling tears well up that he didn't understand. His heart raced painfully as he stared into its faint pink-ish depths. "Where did you get this?!" He demanded harshly.

"It's mine."

"It can't be. You stole it!"

"No," she shook her head; "I inherited it."

"You…you can't have…" He grabbed her arm. "WHO ARE YOU?!"

She gave a cry of alarm and he let go. "I-I told you…I'm Leia…" Tears rolled down her cheeks, "Leia…Harper. I'm…I'm your descendent."

His arms tightened around the Stone. Charlotte's Stone… It had to be…

He stared at her, thinking of a thousand questions he had to ask her, but there was no time. She pushed him back into the pod and ripped the stone from his arms. The door sealed him in, locking his past from him forever.

She ignored his pleas to open the hatch and placed the Haal Stone it the niche on the craft's surface. She hadn't wanted to tell him. Hadn't wanted to make this harder than it already was, for either of them.

She blew a kiss at the craft as she stepped out of the airlock. "Adieu, Seamus!"

And she hit the release.

******

The tiny life pod tumbled over and over, out into the pale blue and white ether. The Stone shattered the moment the nebulous clouds touched it. The dust crystals it created trickled and danced across the metal of the pod, coating it, protecting it…

Energising the very Strings of Existence…and Time itself.

Inside he was tossed, a sickly ride that bruised and battered his body. Then his DNA shredded…

Molecules parted… chromosomes shattered….

His life flashed like strobe lighting…

****

Back… His mother's face…. **Forward**…Trance bleeding… **Back**…Siobhon crying, her clothes caked in mud… **Back**… His father yelling in his face…. **Forward**… Beka lying dead and decaying… **Back**…Dylan laughing… **Back**…Beka screaming in anger, taking a razor to her scalp, tears running like a river down her cheeks… **Forward**…Charlotte and Lauren arguing over a dress…**Forward**…baby Kelly crawling at 8 months…. **Back**…. Trance kissing him, her body moulding to his…

The images came faster and faster. His mother. Siobhon. Declan. Podraig. Beka. Rev. Trance. Tyr. Dylan. Lauren. Charlotte. All his children and grandchildren and their children…

Over and over and over and over and over and over….

And….nothing.

******

The Gift reassembled him, putting the shreds together from the confines of the little pod. It recreated him, breathed life back into him and set his heart beating…

And then the images came again…

And then there was nothing…

****

Present Day…

The mainframe surged with power, burning him, filling him. The future technology of his port meeting the older circuits of the power grid caused wave after wave of power streams throughout his body. And in its centre, Harper's past collapsed in on itself in mere milliseconds, imploding, thudding through his mind in the barest of instances, crystallised by this moment. And in the background, Trance screamed his name…

*****

The engineers worked frantically to shut the terminal down and break the link. Harper's body sat rigid in the energy streams, his eyes wide and unseeing, fixated on nothing. Dylan had to grab Trance the moment Harper had been consumed, stopping her from touching him. He still held her around the waist, ignoring her pleas to let her go. She was screaming that she would be all right, that she could touch him. The depth of anguish in her voice and the feel of her heart pounding beneath his arms surprised him. 

Beside him, Lauren fumbled in her med bag and pulled a scanner out. She rushed over to Harper and began monitoring him.

"I can't get a reading, the electricity is too intense." She said and leaned closer to narrow the scanner's range.

Her leg touched Harper's…

Blue fire arced through the doctor and her body went stiff. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out…

To be concluded…


	16. Sixteen I - Nothing Is Set In Stone...

****

Author's note: Hi, everyone. This is only the first half of the last chapter, which I thought I'd post now because I know it's been a while. Hopefully it'll all be finished soon. ~ NorthernStar

__________________________________________________________________________________

****

Sixteen I ~ Nothing Is Set In Stone…

Dylan's eardrums hurt; the sound of the mainframe's warning systems was so piercing that the sound seemed to reach inside of him to claw painfully at his innards. And then something tripped – a fuse, maybe a safety. Whatever it was, the sound snapped off with a sharp click and everything plunged into darkness. The silence deafening in the sudden absence of the noise, and then... 

Two bodies thudded to the floor, and the smell of cooked flesh rose up to fill the air with its acrid scent.

The lights crashed on a second later, and the terminal screens around them flowed with data.

"Operating perimeters: normal." The computer announced.

Dylan fell to his knees beside Lauren, shouting into his communicator for a paramedic transport as Trance desperately searched for a pulse. 

"No," he heard her whisper, "it wasn't supposed to be this way." But he didn't have time to ask what she meant. He had to get the doctor breathing again. As he positioned her head and closed his fingers over her nose, he saw the techs turning their attention to Harper, feeling for a pulse.

"NO!" Dylan cried, "leave him. We must help her!"

The tech frowned, "he was in that stream longer."

Trance looked up briefly from Lauren, "he'll be OK, I promise!"

"He won't if I don't get him breathing!"

"He will."

*****

"HARPER!"

Beka flew out of her chair at the screech of the medical terminals. The kid's eyes snapped open, full of panic and his mouth moved in the parody of a scream.

"What the hells wrong with him?" She yelled at the ceiling, and the hologram of Andromeda blipped into existence beside the bed.

"Unknown."

"Bek…" Harper managed. The young man was curling in on himself, clutching at his wound; his breathing came in uneven, pained gasps.

"What do I do?" Beka asked desperately.

"Get it off! Get it off!"

"What?" She grabbed his shoulder, making him look at her, "get what off?"

"The Dermo-plast…" He gasped, "on the wound." He began clawing at his chest, his nails leaving bloody marks on his skin. "Please…"

"I can't…"

"Please!"

"Harper, you'll bleed to death!"

"Beka," Rommie interrupted, "I'm reading a massive temporal displacement."

"What?"

"A ripple in the fabric of time/space."

"I know what one is! What's causing it?"

"Unknown. But it's originating from the planet."

"Oh great, no prizes for guessing who's behind it!" She glared at Harper, "what the hell has your other half done?"

"How the hell should I know?" He hissed, and pressed himself into an even tighter ball than before. "And he is not my other half!"

The plast over his stab wound finally gave and he yelled out as the tape ripped a few chest hairs away. Beka gasped. Instead of the bloody mass she'd expected to see, there was nothing but a faint red line, almost like well healed scar tissue. "It's… Where…?" 

"He's changed something. That other me, he's done something to the timeline. I-I can…I can feel it, Beka! I gotta get down there. I could be the only one who can sort this mess out."

"No! No-one is going anywhere." 

"Beka, temporal displacements are bad news. We're talking end of the Universe stuff here!" He ignored her sceptical look. "That other me caused this. So it's up to me to put it right."

She snapped, "Mr Modesty, you're in no state to make a decision like that."

"He's me! That's all the decision I need."

"Harper…" she stopped and let a glimmer of the concern she felt for him reflect on her face, if only for a moment. "He tried to kill you, Seamus."

"So I'll be ready for him this time. C'mon, Beka, trust me on this?"

******

Trance felt sick, her senses reeling from the turmoil in the Strings. It was hard to block out the noise in her mind and concentrate on the moment, and the young woman lying pale and still on the medical bed in front of her.

Lauren was barely alive, breathing only because of the excellent life support facilities on the paramedic transport they were on. Tubes and wires coiled and snaked around her, holding her in this world. This barest margin of life was the only thing keeping the future Harper's String intact. But in doing so it was taking a terrible toll on the fabric of reality. Trance could feel it, taste it, hear it… Whatever happened from this point on, Trance could not hide from the truth. She had helped cause it; she had knowingly brought this instability to the Strings, and she knew that even the Eternals would not forgive this betrayal.

Her Gift would not protect her from their wrath.

The sound of coughing interrupted her thoughts and she turned. Dylan was already helping the young man to sit. The attending paramedic paled in terror and whispered a prayer to the Divine.

The future Harper winced, "gotta hate that wake up thing."

Despite everything, Trance smiled, "you get used to it."

"Are you all right?" Dylan asked.

"Yeah, yeah," he looked at the life signs monitor strapped to his chest. "But you didn't have'ta go overboard here. I'm not the dyin' kind."

"We didn't." Dylan said, "the transports not for you."

Trance looked down and moved herself out of Harper's line of sight. His eyes fell on the stricken form in the other bed.

"The units for her."

"Lauren!" The anguish on his face was terrible to see.

*****

Kelly opened her eyes at the sound of the door chime. She put down the clear meditation crystal she had been using and untwisted her body for the lotus position. "Come in."

A small officious looking Tellen entered, bowing respectfully. "My apologies, Viv-En-Tor."

"That's all right." She said and then frowned, "what is it?" It had to have been important if she had been interrupted in the final hours before the ceremony.

"I…I'm sorry, truly, truly sorry to bring you such news."

"What do you mean?"

"Your sister," he murmured, "she's been taken to the Central Hospital. I'm…I'm afraid the reports are not good!"

*****

"Harper, you're crazy!"

He turned around at the Maru's airlock. "Actually I prefer sanity impaired, or challenged. It sounds less insulting."

"I can't believe your going to do this."

"Yeah, but you're not going to stop me."

"Dylan is going to freak."

"Since when have you taken orders from Dylan."

Beka shook her head and chuckled, knowing he was goading her. "Nice try, Seamus."

Harper sighed, and rubbed his chest, massaging away the ghost pain. "Beka, it's important, OK? Look, you know I can by-pass the Maru's security lock outs, but I rather take her with your blessing."

"This is crazy."

"Yeah, we established that. Are you gonna give me the Maru or not?"

She sighed. "He tried to kill you."

"Beka…"

"All right, all right!" She flung her arms up. "But if you're gonna go to Hell, I can at least drive you."

He put on a mock _'I'm touched'_ look.

"That way I know I'll get my ship back in one piece."

Harper frowned and followed her onto the Maru.

Andromeda's hologram appeared in front of the Maru. "For what its worth, I think you're both crazy."

They ignored her.

******

Trance sat in the hospital waiting lounge and watched the future Harper pacing back and forth, his face pale and shadowed. Eyes bright with worry and guilt for the woman who would become his wife and bear him children.

She wanted to say something to him to ease his guilt, but she found no words. Anything she might have said would be empty and ultimately cruel.

Dylan was at the other end of the room, talking to the presidential party and two weary looking doctors. She could see by the faint lines around his eyes and the firm set of his jaw that whatever was being said wasn't good news. 

Trance felt a deep well of shame rise up. How many lives had she ruined in the last few hours? And how many more would be destroyed as a result of what was happening right now?

And all because of her…

"Captain Hunt!"

She looked up at the words and saw the Tellan's Viv-En-Tor and her personal guard enter the waiting area.

And then she was distracted by Harper's hand on her arm. She looked up, drowning out the worried conversation Lauren's sister was having with the doctors.

His eyes met hers. "We've got to help her, Trance!"

******

Harper's chest had begun seeping blood the moment the Maru set down on the planet. His eyes went wide at the sight, "what the…!"

Beka grabbed the front of his clothes and yanked them up. He blushed and recoiled from her touch, but she ignored him. "There's no wound." She frowned, and poked his flesh. "Nothing."

He looked down. The faint scar once more marked his chest. And at his touch, a faint trickle of red oozed out and dribbled wetly down his skin.

Harper hissed in pain, but it was over in a flash. The wound once more healing before their eyes.

*****

The room was silent save the quiet bleeping from the terminals above the ICU bed. Lights flickered on the panels, looking almost like many coloured stars in the darkened care unit.

Lauren looked small and fragile in the single bed. Her legs and hands had been bandaged tightly to aid the healing of the terrible burns she had suffered.

It wasn't fair. 

Kelly felt a cold trickle on her cheek, surprising her. She had not cried for so long. She'd thought her quota of tears had been used up when the doctor's had diagnosed her illness as terminal, and in the many months after. 

Bir'Mark had offered her a chance to put meaning back into her life, and give that same meaning to her death, by becoming the Viv-En-Tor. And it had made dying easier. For her, at least, Lauren had never truly understood.

Now she never would.

It wasn't fair.

Kelly had always had the courage to face her destiny, to face the responsibilities of the Viv-En-Tor. But that courage came from only one source: Lauren. That she would be with Kelly at the end, holding her hand, feeling so much pride in her sister's bravery, was all Kelly had to give her strength.

But now it was the other way around, and Kelly wasn't as strong like Lauren; she couldn't face this.

It wasn't fair.

They had wept together, when they'd learned Kelly was dying, long and hard, day after day, until one cold morning when they'd quietly decided to put away the grief and get on with their lives. However short a time that might be.

Who had known, back then, that Lauren's life would be cut so tragically as well?

It wasn't fair.

"No, it's not."

Kelly turned; unaware she'd spoken her thoughts aloud.

Bir'Mark stood respectfully in the doorway, looking older than she had ever seen. "It is long past the Hour. We must leave now or there will not be time for the ceremony. If midnight comes and the Viv-En-Tor still lives…" He took a long breath to steady the fast beat of his heart, "our nation will fall… Please, please, Kell'Lee, think of the people."

Her features grew tight and a touch of bitterness crept into her eyes. "I can't," she whispered. "I can't think of anything beyond my sister."

******

Beka had grabbed one of the low atmosphere jackets from the Maru's lockers to cover the red stain on Harper's shirt. It would far too hindering to walk about anywhere, least of all a hospital; dripping blood one minute and healing up the next. But the High Guard insignia on its breast proved helpful in negotiating their way through the crowds that had gathered at the hospital.

They had learned from the Global Broadcast that the Viv-En-Tor ceremony was on hold, for an undisclosed reason, and that the captain of the Andromeda was being named as one of those responsible. Patchy reports from the northern continents premier hospital that both the Viv-En-Tor, the president and Dylan Hunt was there, but no actual reports of anyone being injured.

They saw the crowds gathering outside, some praying, other's yelling. They were stopped at the main gates and questioned, but at the mention of Dylan's name, the Tellan's had let them through.

Halfway down the main corridor, Harper stumbled. Beka grabbed his shoulder, the movement jerking his head up, bringing him back to the here and now.

"Seamus?"

"I'm OK, I'm OK." He swallowed down, "dizzy, but OK."

Beka checked around her for any observers before grabbing Harper's clothes and yanking them up.

"Hey!" He objected and tried to swat her hand away.

"You've got nothing I haven't seen before." She countered, wiping the blood from his skin. Her eyes widened, "oh my God…"

Some of the blood had crystallised around the stab wound, which was open and bleeding. But not blood.

Light…

*****

"I have to see her."

Trance jumped a little at the ferocity in the future Harper's voice and glanced around nervously. Dylan's attention was focused on the doctor's, as was everyone else's. "They're only letting relatives in."

"I'm her freakin' husband!"

"No," she said, "not anymore. Maybe not ever." She shivered, "can't you feel it? The instability. In the Stings?"

His eyes were dark and his lips twisted. "I'm tryin' not too."

Worry filled her eyes, increasing the ever present little-girl aura around her. "I never wanted it to be like this."

"I know. Wasn't how I wanted it either, Trance." 

******

Kelly stared through the large glass window into the ICU bay that her sister lay in. She hated being even this distance from Lauren, but she knew what she had to say would mean raised voices, and she didn't want to be banned from her sister's bedside for causing a scene.

Bir'Mark and his father, President Go'Mek stood behind her. 

"Please, Kell'Lee, you must-"

"I am not leaving here until I know she's going to be all right."

"It's your duty." Bir'Mark said, "as Viv-En-Tor."

"I have a duty to Lauren! As her sister."

"You have to do this. There is no other duty. You have inside you the messages from a thousand people, words you must deliver before this day is out. It is your destiny. And your choice."

"And I'm choosing to stay here." Her eyes became pleading, "just a little longer. An hour, two. Just long enough that I know she's going to be OK."

"We have to leave now. It will take us almost an hour to reach the ceremonial grounds, and everything must be concluded before midnight."

__

Concluded…with her death. She met her friend's eyes, "I can live with my own death, but I am not going to die thinking of hers!"

"Kell'Lee…"

"I'm staying here!"

Dylan cleared his throat. "Your honours-"

Kelly's head snapped around, "stay out of this, High Guard!" She warned. "It is you and your crew's fault our world is facing this ruin!"

The president broke his silence. "Yes." He murmured, "and I fear there will be no treaty."

******

23:59. The president watched the numbers on the clock, mentally counting the seconds down. The halls and corridors of the medical centre echoed with the baying of the crowds gathered outside. Their shouts had got louder and louder the later it became. Someone out there took up the silent countdown going on in his head and the angry masses took up the chant.

5, 4… Bir'Mark laid a hand on his father's shoulder.

3, 2… The President shut his eyes.

1… The crowds crashed through the line of guards and peacekeepers. And not just there, at the hospital, but in town squares and capital's across the planet. 

The Day of the Viv-En-Tor had passed without her death. 

And Tellan Three descended into chaos…

******

A siren began to wail thought the medical complex. Beka looked at Harper, an unspoken agreement passed between them and they broke into a run. Medical personnel swarmed around, ferrying the sick out of their rooms for the evacuation. Beka yelled into her Comm as they dodged and weeved the panicked staff and patients. She had resisted contacting them before, as she knew Dylan would tell her to get right back to the Andromeda.

And she didn't want to find herself agreeing with him.

"Dylan! Trance! What the hell's happening?"

"Beka, are you on the Maru?" Dylan's voice was surprisingly calm.

"No, we're--"

"We? Never mind. Beka, get back to the Maru and assist the Tellan's peacekeeper patrols."

The pair dashed around a corner and stopped dead. "Can't."

"Why not?"

"Because we're right behind you." No need for a Comm to convey those words,

The tall rigid back in front of them turned to face them and the pair relaxed their stances despite the thunder in Dylan's stare. Harper leant an arm on Beka's shoulder and matched her self-satisfied grin. "And we're just as stuck in the hospital as you are, Boss." He looked at Beka, "Bosses."

*******

Concluded soon!


End file.
